


Frozen Hearts

by RachelisTheWendyBird



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Frozen (2013) Fusion, Dark One's Dagger, F/M, Gen, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Magic, Magic Origins, Shadow Realms, Spoilers, Storybrooke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:23:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1693157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachelisTheWendyBird/pseuds/RachelisTheWendyBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since Once Upon a Time is on Hiatus, and I can't wait that long for more Once, I decided to write this fanfic about what happens directly after the Season 3B Finale</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Surprises and Happy Endings

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains spoilers for Season 3 of Once Upon a Time. If you have not seen up to the season finale, continue at your own risk!

 

In all honesty, Snow had no idea what she was doing. After all, she’d never raised a child before. She and David hadn’t even met Emma until she was grown up. And for the longest time, Emma had resisted every one of Snow and David’s attempts at parenting. But now she was finally getting her chance to be a real mother.

Snow thought about what her midwife had said, that she’d learn quickly. Then she remembered that that midwife had been Zelena—who had tried to kill them all and steal her baby—and made a face. But it was true; she was learning.

At the moment, David was holding baby Neal, pacing about the apartment and bouncing him gently; he was trying to get their son to sleep. Snow doubted he would succeed before everyone arrived, and then there’d be no point in trying until everyone left again. She glanced up from her book to check the clock above the stove.

“What time did we tell him to come, again?” Snow asked.

“Uh, 7:15 I believe,” David said, distracted. “And then Emma’s supposed to get here at 7:30.”

Snow nodded. Five minutes to go. She went back to her book.

At 7:15 sharp, there was a rapping at the door. With a groan, Snow stood up, stretched, and went to open the door. 

“Evening, Mary-Margaret,” Hook said with a nod. “David,” he continued.

“Thank you so much for coming here, we need all the support we can get,” Snow said.

“My pleasure,” Hook said, sauntering in. “You really think she’ll take it that badly?”

“No,” Snow admitted, “but you know how stubborn she can be. And you’ve always been able to bring out the best in her. It can’t hurt to have you here.”

Hook smiled his most charismatic smile. “Well, I’m glad you finally approve of me.”

“Please,” David said, “after all you’ve done, how could we not?”

Snow smiled her agreement. “Why don’t you sit down?” she said, motioning to the table. “I’ll make some tea.”

Hook pulled out a chair, and Snow made her way to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

“So, is everything in order for the surprise?” Hook asked.

“I believe so,” Snow said, clicking on the stove. “Granny’s finalized the menu; the Dwarves have all the decorations, and they’re going to be putting them up tomorrow; Mother Superior has confirmed that we can use the banquet hall; we have Aurora’s three fairy godmothers taking care of the cake; Belle’s given out all of the invitations; and we’ve told Arachne who owns the boutique that you and Emma will be stopping by tonight, and that Emma can pick out any dress she wants, on us.”

She checked each one of these off on her fingers as she said them. Hook looked impressed.

“Blimey, you’ve certainly got things organized,” he said.

“Well, I’m from royalty. Having a plan and being organized is something that I do.” 

Snow poured the boiling water into the teapot, set it on a tray with milk, sugar, and several teacups, and carried it over to the table. After pouring Hook and herself a cup, Neal started crying.

“It’s no good,” David said, walking over to her. “I can’t get him to sleep. You’ll have to try.”

Snow took Neal in her arms, rocking him gently back and forth. He stopped crying after a minute, but didn’t go to sleep.

At that moment the door opened and Henry came in, followed closely by Emma.

“Hey Mom,” she said. “Dad.”

Snow smiled. Every time she heard Emma call her “mom,” she could feel her heart glowing. She had called them mom and dad for an entire day after the time portal incident. Now she was slowly going back to calling them Mary-Margaret and David, but it still sometimes slipped out.

Emma walked over to her mother and leaned down to smile at baby Neal, then sat down in the empty seat beside her.

“Hook,” She said, “what are you doing here?”

“Your parents invited me,” Hook said, gesturing his hook in their direction.

“So, are we going to tell her now?” Henry asked, taking the seat across from Emma.

“Tell me what?” Emma asked.

“About the surprise,” Henry said, his excitement evident.

“What surprise?” Emma was starting to sound suspicious. Snow hurriedly stepped in, thinking beating around the bush was not the best idea.

“Well, as you know, your father and I never got to share your growing up. We were never able to give you a ball or even a birthday party.”

“Yeah,” Emma said, “and?”

“We’d like to change that,” David said. 

“We’d like to give you a birthday ball,” Snow said.

Emma said nothing, just stared at all of them looking overwhelmed. “You really don’t have to do this,” she said.

“Too bad, it’s already done,” David said. “We have a space, decorations, and catering all figured out.”

“I just,” Emma shook her head, presumably in an overwhelmed gesture. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Come on, Mom!” Henry said, prodding her under the table with his foot. “Aren’t you excited?”

“I don’t know whether ‘excited’ is the right word. I’m not really a ball kind of girl.”

“Oh, I beg to differ!” Hook said, clearly referring to the ball he and Emma had been to in the Enchanted Forest.

Emma stared at him. “I assume you had something to do with this?”

“We all did, Mom,” Henry piped up. “Pretty much everyone we know is helping out, and practically all of Storybrooke is gonna be there!”

Emma made a face at that, but she wasn’t done with Hook yet. “So,” she said, “what part do you have to play in all of this?”

Hook smiled his crooked smile. “I’m going to be your date to the ball, of course!”

“Of course you are,” Emma said, rolling her eyes.

“And tonight,” Hook said as he got to his feet. “I’m taking you to the boutique to pick out a dress.”

“I don’t need a fancy dress,” Emma protested. 

“Emma, it’s already been paid for,” Snow said.

“God, you guys don’t have to do all this for me!” Emma said.

“I know,” Snow said, “but we want to. You’re our daughter, and all we’ve ever wanted was to give you something like this.”

Emma’s smile started to show through her stubbornness. “Alright,” she said. “When’s the party?”

“Tomorrow at 7:30, in the Storybrooke Banquet Hall,” David said.

“Well, I guess I’d better go pick out a dress then. Henry, why don’t you go get ready for bed?”

“Okay,” Henry said. “I’ll see you later,” and made his way upstairs. 

“Ready Emma?” Hook asked. 

Emma nodded, then Hook took her hand and led her out the door. Before it closed, she looked back over her shoulder and gave her parents a smile.

“Well, I think that went much better than expected,” David said.

“Yeah,” Snow agreed. “It did.”

She looked down at the bundle in her arms. Neal was finally asleep. She communicated this fact to David with her eyes. He understood. They were getting pretty good at silent communication. She stood, and carefully, quietly, made her way to the nursery. So far, so good. She set Neal down in his cradle and turned on his mobile, dimmed the lights, and tiptoed back to the dinning room to rejoin David.

“Everything alright?” David asked when she sat back down at the table. 

“Everything’s perfect,” Snow said. She was still smiling. A few weeks ago, she couldn’t have imagined life like this. With Zelena after their child and bent on destruction, it seemed impossible that there could be any sort of happy ending. But their could. Happy endings were always possible if you just believed. Good always triumphed over evil in the end. Light prevailed over dark.

“What are you thinking about?” David asked, pulling Snow from her reverie. 

“Happy endings,” she said. “Not long ago I thought we could never have one, that nobody could ever have one here. But now, here we are.”

David smiled at her. “I knew we would. I had complete faith in Emma, and everyone else who fought in every battle we’ve ever faced.”

“How? Everything was so against us.”

David reached out and took Snow’s hand. “You’re the one who taught me to always have faith,” he said.

Snow smiled. She and David leaned towards each other, their lips meeting in a kiss. So sweet, and so pure a kiss, that it brought a tear to Snow’s eye. And as the two of them sat there, entwined with each other, they hoped that Hook and Emma’s visit to the boutique would take a very long time.


	2. Quiet Streets and Shadow Realms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second installment of "Frozen Hearts," in which we go dress shopping and meet a new Storybrooke character

 

The streets of Storybrooke were quiet, and mostly empty. They usually were, as Emma had noticed since becoming Sheriff. No midnight prowlers, no petty criminals, no weirdoes that came out when the moon was full (at least, not in a real-world sense). Compared to the streets of Phoenix, Boston, New York, and ever other city she had lived in, they were downright peaceful. Except of course, when there was some new evil to face. Emma was sick and tired of evil. All she wanted was to be with her family, with no more separations, deaths, or curses. And now, it seemed like she might actually get that. No worries, leisurely days, and quiet streets.

“Penny for your thoughts, love,” Hook said, pulling Emma from her reverie.

“Oh,” she laughed a little. “I uh…was just thinking about how everything’s good now.”

“Somehow I doubt that everyone would agree with that,” Hook said.

“What do you—oh.” Emma suddenly remembered. “Regina. Right.” She had tried to avoid thinking about that mess.

“I warned you not to interfere,” Hook said. “You should’ve left her to her fate.”

“Hey,” Emma said, pulling Hook to a stop. “I didn’t know who she was or what bringing her back would do! She was going to be executed, what did you expect me to do?”

“I know,” Hook said with a smirk. “I don’t blame you. If you hadn’t saved her, you wouldn’t be Emma Swan. And if you weren’t Emma Swan, I wouldn’t love you.”

Emma punched him playfully on the arm and started walking again, then checked her watch. “You know, after eight,” she said. “Are you sure this place will still be open?”

“She’s open ‘til ten,” Hook said with another smirk.

Emma groaned.

“Is the idea of dress shopping really that bad to you?” Hook wondered.

“It’s just…I’ve never been a party-fancy-dress-and-dancing sort of girl. I mean, I’ve never even been to a prom.”

“What’s a prom?” Hook asked.

“It’s a high school dance,” Emma said. “But that doesn’t matter, what I mean is…this just isn’t really my thing. Getting all dressed up and being the center of attention.”

“You’ve been to a ball.”

“Yeah, but we were in disguise, and we were on a mission. This is different. This is real.”

“Hey,” Hook said with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

Emma smiled in spite of herself. She sometimes wished that she could be as easy-going as Hook. 

“So,” She said, “why is it that you’re taking me dress shopping? I thought that was more of a…girls-night thing.”

“Your parents thought that it would put you at ease if I took you.”

“Is that so?”

“Well you’re mother admitted that if she took you, she wouldn’t be able to resist gushing over you and picking out all the frilly ball gowns for you to try on. Thought that might overwhelm you.”

“Whereas you definitely would not smirk and pick out every slinky cocktail dress for me to try on?” Emma said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. 

Hook laughed. “Hey, I promise; no suggestive comments, and no picking out cocktail dresses, alright?”

“Alright,” Emma sighed.

“Good, ‘cause, we’re here.”

They’d stopped in front of a smallish shop with three beautiful evening gowns in the window display, just a few buildings up the street from Mr. Gold’s pawnshop. The sign above the door read “Aurania’s Boutique and Tailoring,” and below that a newer sign was nailed on reading “And Original Tapestries—inquire within.”

“Ready?” Hook said.

“Does it really matter?” Emma countered.

“Nope!” Hook said with a smirk. He grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her into the shop. 

Bells tinkled over the door when they entered the shop. What they found inside was nothing like Emma expected. The shop looked less like a boutique and more like a theatre dressing room, except that it was meticulously organized. The dresses hung on racks, some on display mannequins, and there were several chairs and full-body mirrors scattered around the shop. To the left of the door was the front counter, and leaning against it was a young woman, who must have been Aurania.

She was very thin, except for her full hips. Her hair was the color of dead leaves, and her eyes were so vibrantly brown that they were almost red. She wore a dark, forest green dress with an empire waist, and silky white strands that hung all over like cobwebs. Tiny black spiders with onyx bodies dangled from her ears, and around her neck she wore a red hourglass. But the strangest thing about her was that she held a large tarantula in the palm of her hand, and was stroking it lovingly.

“Uh, what the hell is that?” Emma said. She wasn’t exactly afraid of spiders, but seeing someone stroke a tarantula was a little creepy.

The woman looked up when she spoke and smiled. “Ah, Ms. Swan,” she said, “I’ve been expecting you.” Her voice was low and thin, and she lisped through her “S’s.”

She (thankfully) slipped the tarantula into a glass tank that sat on her counter and made her way over to Hook and Emma. Her movements had a sort of erratic grace to them.

“My name is Arachne,” she said. “They call me Aurania here, but I prefer Arachne.”

“Arachne?” Emma said, “As in—”

“The Greek Mythology, yes,” Arachne said.

“Alright then,” Emma said. She was starting to be less surprised by the stories that turned out to be true.

“So, do you know what sort of dress you are looking for?” Arachne asked.

“Not really,” Emma admitted.

“Not to worry, there is a wide variety to be found here. Hundreds of dresses, and no two are the same. I make them in most standard sizes, but I can easily alter the one you chose to fit exactly. I have them organized by color, and then by length. I find that’s the best place to start. Let me know when you find the right one!” She smiled and went back to her counter, taking out a notebook and bending over it, pencil poised.

Hook gestured forward. “After you,” he said.

Emma made her way over to the first rack of dresses. They were all shades of purple; from palest lavender, to violet, to plum, to darkest indigo. They were all beautiful, but she’d sort of lost her taste for purple since coming to Storybrooke (it reminded her of magic). She passed the pinks without a second glance and went on to the blues. She liked navy and royal blue, but none of the styles caught her interest. She glanced at the greens and went on to the yellows. She considered a pastel yellow dress with beaded sleeves, but decided she didn’t like the way it dragged on the floor. So she moved on past the oranges to the reds. Just like all the other colors, there was ever possible shade; from pastel red, to scarlet, to rose, and to darkest burgundy. 

Emma turned to ask Hook which shade he liked, only to find that he’d long since wandered over to the black dresses. She laughed quietly and shook her head. She spent a long time pouring over the red dresses. There were so many different styles. There were corset dresses, cocktail dresses, floaty high-low dresses, austere-looking empire dresses, dresses that swept the grown, dresses that left nothing to the imagination, ball gowns with full skirts, and everything else you could imagine. 

“I quite fancy this,” Hook said behind her.

Emma jumped a little. “Hook, don’t sneak up on me!”

“Sorry, Emma,” he said with a smirk. A black dress was dangling from his hook. “What do you think of this one?” he asked, giving it a shake.

The dress he held was shiny, like silk or satin. It was sexy-looking, but not slutty. The length was slanted; so one side hung just past the knee while the other side only came down do about mid-thigh. The short side was bunched at the waist, like it had been cinched up. The neckline was scooped, and the fabric hung loose there. 

“It’s a nice dress,” Emma admitted, “but black isn’t really my color. You can feel free to try it on, though.”

“Very funny, Emma,” Hook laughed.

“Hey, I wanted to ask your opinion on something,” Emma said.

“And what’s that?” Hook asked, eyes eager.

Emma held up two dresses she had been carrying with her. “Which one do you…”

“Yes?” Hook prompted.

But Emma was looking past him to the neutral colors (black, white, brown, grey) section. At the end of the grey rack there were silver dresses, and one of them had caught her eye.

“Hold on a second,” she said, hanging the two red dresses back up on the rack.

She walked over to where the silver dresses hung and sifted through them, trying to find what had caught her eye. She found it quickly, and held it up to get a better look at it. It was a lovely floor-length gown made from a silky material. The sleeves were adorned with lace and beading, and the beading continued down to meet in the middle of the bodice, then branched out to go below the hips and meet up again in the middle of the back. The skirt below the beading was pleated, and the fabric in the bodice pleated out from the middle. It reminded Emma of feathers, almost. She never would have looked at the silvers, but she was instantly in love.

“That’s beautiful,” Hook whispered behind her.

“Arachne,” Emma called, “This is the one.”

Arachne was at their side in seconds. “Marvelous,” she said. “Come with me to the back room, and we’ll see how it fits.

Emma followed her to the back of the shop, where she pulled back a curtain to reveal a hidden room with a pedestal in the center and three mirrors surrounding one side. There were mannequins with half-finished dresses on them, endless boxes of sewing supplies, worktables, and rolls of fabric stacked against one wall.

“Change into the dress, then call me in and I’ll see what needs to be done,” Arachne said.

Emma went into the room, stripped, and put on the dress. But she couldn’t get the zipper up.

“Hey,” she called, “can you help me out with this zipper?”

“Not to worry,” Arachne said, pushing the curtain aside. 

She pulled the zipper up all the way and fastened the clasp at the top. Then she walked around Emma, looking critically at the way the dress fit her. She stood at different distances, bent down low, tilted her head from side to side, pinched and pulled at the dress in suspect places, the whole deal.

“Hmm…” Arachne said finally. “The length and cup size are perfect, but I’ll need to take the straps up a bit and take it in a bit at the waist. She grabbed a pincushion from the nearest worktable and set to work.

“So,” Emma said, “Greek mythology is all true? Gods, Hercules, and everything?”

“Oh yes,” Arachne said with a smile. “Every deity ever worshipped in this world is real to some extent, as are the myths and legends.”

“Really, all of them?”

Arachne nodded. “All of them from ancient Mesopotamia to Ancient Egypt, the Greek and Roman mythos, and the Norse legends. Of course, the people here often get things wrong. When you’re passing things down orally, things are bound to get a little jumbled, after all.”

“But…I thought there was no magic in this land,” Emma said.

“Oh, there isn’t. Not anymore. But there was magic her a long time ago, in the time of the Gods.”

“What happened to it?”

“People stopped believing in it,” Arachne said matter-of-factly. “Magic needs belief in order to survive. But it didn’t just disappear, it can’t. It died down, shrinking back into the earth until there wasn’t enough left to be felt by the people.”

“Wait, are you saying there’s still magic here?” Emma was skeptical.

“You see magic, in any realm, comes from the land itself. From the earth, the water, the wind, and every living creature. If there is belief to fuel it, it will come out of the land and go into people, objects, and places. There it can be wielded, taught, and studied. Even here, if people believe hard enough and search hard enough, they can still find magic. But it can never be wielded as it once was.”

“So, what happened to all the gods?” Emma wondered. “Are they dead?”

“No,” Arachne said. “When the mortals moved on to other gods, they began to loose their power and themselves. So they fled to shadow realms, and the Land of the Gods became the Land Without magic.”

Emma was quiet for a bit, then asked, “What are shadow realms?”

“They are realms crafted by powerful beings that stick to the sides of their realm of origin. There is one for each set of gods and deities. And if they’re strong enough, they craft doors between other realms. That’s how I ended up in the Enchanted Forest. 

“Why did you leave the Greek Gods’ shadow realm?” Emma asked.

“I had no desire to stay in the same realm as Athena. And nobody missed me.”

“Oh right, your story. Athena turned you into the first spider.”

“Yes,” Arachne said sadly. “Okay, you’re all pinned now. Take of the dress /very carefully/ and I’ll start the alterations. It won’t take very long at all, this is what I was made to do.”

Emma slipped carefully out of the dress and put her clothes back on while Arachne rummaged in a drawer for needle and thread. “What happened?” she asked.

“I thought you knew the story,” Arachne said, taking the dress and sitting down to work at one of the tables.

“I know /a/ story,” Emma said. “But like you said, sometimes the truth gets twisted, and I want to hear your side.

Arachne smiled at her. “It was my own fault. The Greek Gods are vain, and you’re not allowed to challenge them or say that you’re superior to them in some way. I claimed that I could weave better than Athena, and she challenged me to a weaving competition. I, in my pride and spitefulness, I weaved a tapestry showing all the gods in shame. It was, quite insulting, like a political cartoon. In her wrath, Athena turned me into a spider, condemning me to spend all my days weaving. I didn’t mind that. But I missed being human.

“So as soon as I found the way, I left the shadow realm and found myself in the Enchanted Forest. In due time I met Rumplestiltskin and made a deal. He said he would return me to my human form in return for my silk whenever he demanded it. There is no finer silk than what I produce. But something went wrong with his magic, or he lied to me. Either way, I was not restored to a normal human. Instead, I became half-human, half-spider. A monster. Spider’s body, human torso, arms, and head, but my eyes were black, and there were more set across my forehead. And I had pincers protruding from my mouth. I still have the lisp, as you probably noticed.”

“So, how are you human again?” Emma asked.

“The curse. I don’t think a human-spider monster would fit in very well in The Land Without Magic, do you?”

“No, I suppose not,” Emma agreed. 

“There, all finished!” Arachne said.

“Wow, that was quick.”

“I told you, it’s what I’m made for.” She placed the dress on a hanger and placed a protective bag over it. “Here you are,” she said, presenting it to Emma.

“Thanks,” Emma said.

“Tell your mother I said hi.”

“Come to think of it, how do you know my mother?” Emma asked.

“She protected me once when people wanted to burn my nest and kill me. She’s a kind soul.”

“Yeah, I know,” Emma said. “And you’re deal with Rumplestiltskin, does that still stand?”

Arachne grinned. “Where do you think he gets all those high-end suits from?”

Emma smiled, waved to Arachne, and made her way out of the shop. Hood was snoozing in one of the chairs.

“Come on, sleepy head,” she said. “We’re finished.”

“Oh good,” Hook said, stretching. “I guess it didn’t need much work, then?”

“Nope,” Emma said. “Not much at all.”

Arm in arm, Emma and Hook left the shop and headed towards home, through the still quiet streets of Storybrooke.


	3. A Night of Gratitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we see Emma go to her party, and pay a visit to Mr. Gold.

The bells above the door tinkled as Emma pushed her way into Mr. Gold’s shop. Really, she couldn’t believe she was doing this. But after the time portal, her whole Back-to-the-Future experience, watching her mother die, and realizing where her home was, she was feeling sentimental.

“Hey, Gold,” she said.

“Ms. Swan,” Gold said, looking up. “What a lovely surprise.”

Emma ambled towards the counter, stopping to look at antiques and fiddle with nick-knacks. So many strange things in this shop. 

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Gold asked. 

His voice had the same enigmatic tone it always did. Emma was never able to figure out whether it was sarcastic, condescending, or serious. In her experience, it had been all three. She was also never able to tell whether they were enemies or friends. After all, they had been both.

She stopped browsing and closed the remaining distance between her and the counter, where she stood in her custom sheriff stance (feet apart, back strait, hands on hips, looking directly in the eye of whoever she was talking to).

“I uh, wanted to thank you. For helping me and Hook back in the Enchanted Forest, I mean.”

A frown creased Gold’s face. “Yes, I’ve been wanting to ask you about that. There’s no way you could have gotten out of that mess without my help…no offence. But you see, I don’t remember anything strange happening. Visitors from the future, it’s not something you easily forget.”

“You made yourself a memory potion. You said you knew too much about your own future, and it was safer to forget,” Emma said. “Perhaps you remember finding yourself in your vault, and wondering what the hell you were doing there?”

“I do!” Gold said, pointing at her. “Tell me, what was I doing in there?”

Emma held up her hands. “I’m getting to that. It’s part of the reason why I’m thanking you.”

Gold leaned forward, his hands braced on the counter. “Do tell,” he said.

“Well, first thing you did was try to kill Hook,” Emma said.

“Ha. I’m not surprised. Why didn’t I?”

“I told you that if you killed him and didn’t help us, you’d never see your son again.”

A flicker of something passed over Gold’s face, too fast for Emma to tell what it was. 

“Well. You weren’t wrong. And I suppose you knew enough information about me, my son, and my curse to convince me to help you. And yet even then I didn’t ask for anything in return? I always have a price.”

Emma gave a wry smile. “I got my parents to meet. I ensured that I would be born so one day I could break your curse. Seems like enough payment, don’t you think? Oh, but you also made me tell you whether you found your son.”

“Fair enough. Is that all you came here to thank me for? I was most likely just in it for my benefit.”

“Maybe. But there was more. You found us a way back. There was this wand—”

“A wand that can reopen any portal,” Gold interrupted, “as long as the person who wields it was the one who passed through it.”

“Yes, well, anyway, you thought I didn’t have magic. And I was pretty convinced that I didn’t have it myself. So you stuck me and Hook in your vault. But I found my magic, and I opened the portal.”

“I sense we’re getting to the part you came here for.” Gold said.

That’s when Emma noticed that during their conversation, they had been leaning towards each other, both of them with their hands on the counter. A few more minutes and they’d be nose to nose.

“You’re not wrong,” Emma said, backing up a bit. “Hook went through the portal first. But just as I was jumping through, you grabbed my hand.”

Gold frowned again, tilting his head to the side. 

“You wanted to know…if Neal forgave you.” Emma continued.

“And what did you tell me?” Gold whispered.

“I told that he forgave you, and that he loved you.”

“…But?” Gold prodded.

He’d sensed the “but,” just as Rumplestiltskin had in the vault. When Emma had first returned to Storybrooke, she’d thought about how bizarrely different the poised, calculating man standing before her was from the slightly crazed imp she’d met in the Enchanted Forest. Now, she was noticing the similarities; there was the same intensity, determination, selfishness, and fierce loyalty there.

“I couldn’t hid it from you, I couldn’t pretend. I had to tell you that he died.”

Gold looked shocked, almost angry. “And somehow, miraculously, the world is still standing,” he hissed.

“That’s what I’m here to thank you for,” Emma said. “You wanted to change that; you thought you could save him if you remembered. You and I both know that would have ended in disaster one way or another. So I told you about him. I told you how much I loved him, and how he sacrificed himself to save us all. I told you that he died a hero. And I asked you not to take that away from him.

“And what did I say?” Gold asked, leaning towards her. “What did I do?”

“You just looked at me,” Emma shrugged. “Then you let me go and drank the potion.”

“I see,” Gold whispered.

He wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was looking off to the side, eyes unfocused, staring at something far away. When he turned back to face Emma, she couldn’t read his expression. 

“I wanted to thank you for that. Taking the potion, I mean. I know you don’t even remember doing it, but I know it was a difficult decision to make, and I’m not sure that I would’ve been able to make the right choice.”

“Yes, I can only imagine,” Gold said with his smile that was almost a smirk.

“Well. Thank you, Rumplestiltskin,” Emma said.

Gold nodded, and Emma made her way out of the shop.

“Emma,” Gold called after her.

She turned around, halfway out of the door.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “And thank you.” 

His smile was real this time. And for the first time that evening, she was able to read his expression; gratitude. Emma returned his smile saying, “I’ll see you at the party tonight.” Then she let the shop door swing shut behind her.

*

“I’m home,” Emma called into the apartment

Mary-Margaret came out of her bedroom at the sound of Emma’s voice.

“Hey,” she said. “I was starting to wonder if you’d get back in time. What were you doing?”

“Nothing,” Emma said. “I just needed to see Mr. Gold about something.”

“Well, we’d better get started. We only have three hours left ‘till the party starts!”

“Only three?” Emma laughed.

“Hey, I want this to be perfect for you. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to help my daughter get ready for a ball?”

Emma laughed again. “Alright, alright. Let’s get started then.”

Mary-Margaret smiled and led her into the bedroom. The bed was strewn with more make-up and hair-styling things than Emma thought just one person could own.

“First, if you would take off your clothes and put on that robe,” Mary-Margaret said pointing at the white bathrobe that hung from one of the bedposts.

“Why?” Emma wondered.

“So you don’t have to worry about taking them off after your beautiful hair and make-up is done, of course!”

“Alright, fine,” Emma said. She took the robe into the bathroom, took off her jeans and t-shirt, and slipped into the robe. 

When she came back into the bedroom, Mary-Margaret sat her down on the edge of the bed. Then she climbed onto the bed herself, kneeling behind her, and set to work. Emma felt her worry about the party slip away as her mother worked through her hair with a brush and the curling iron. They talked about nothing in particular as Mary-Margaret pulled back her hair and stuck bobby pins, clips, and ornaments into it. Emma listened as her mother told her stories about growing up in the Enchanted Forest as she did her make-up. The time seemed to slip away like water through a makeshift dam, and three hours felt like thirty minutes. Before Emma knew it she was putting on her new dress. The fit was so perfect, and the cut made her look elegant and graceful. 

“You look so beautiful,” Mary-Margaret said with that tearful smile Emma had seen so many times. 

She led Emma to the mirror, and Emma caught her breath. Mary-Margaret had piled her hair into a half-bun at the back of her head, with curls pouring down her neck and a few falling into her face. It somehow managed to look like it was both coming together and falling apart at the same time. When Emma turned her head to the side she noticed that the bun had been adorned with a few rhinestone clips. Her make-up was modest and only served to accentuate her features. 

“Wow,” Emma whispered. “Where did you learn to do something like this?”

“All princesses know how to work their magic with hair and make-up,” Mary-Margaret said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to put on my own dress.”

Emma wandered into the kitchen and sat down at the table, fiddling with the small ruby necklace Mary-Margaret had given her to wear. She wondered what Hook would wear. Honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised if he turned up in his long leather coat. Not that she would mind if he did. 

Footsteps thundered down the stairs and Emma looked up to see Henry dressed in his new suit. She stood and went over too him, smiling at how handsome he looked. He looked her up and down and smiled back at her.

“Mom,” he said, “you look amazing!”

“Yeah?” Emma said, ruffling his hair. “You look great too, kid. Where’s David?”

“I’m here!” David answered from the top of the stairs. He stopped short halfway down and stared at Emma. “Wow,” he said, walking slowly towards her. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

“You think so?” Emma said.

“Absolutely,” David assured her

“Okay, I’m ready now!” Mary-Margaret said as she pushed through the curtain that separated her and David’s bedroom from the rest of the house carrying a small wooden box. 

She wore a modest royal purple dress that had a gentle scoop neck and came down to her ankles. Her shoes were flat and sensible, a good choice since she would be dealing with baby Neal throughout the party. Emma had suggested they hire a sitter, but Mary-Margaret insisted she couldn’t bear to be parted from him. It made sense considering all of the child-related trauma she’d gone through.

“And you look beautiful too,” David said, giving his wife a kiss.

“Aw, thank you,” Mary-Margaret said, straitening his tie. Then she walked over to Emma.

“Emma, my mother gave me this to wear at my first birthday ball, and now I’m giving it to you.”

She undid the box’s clasp and lifted the lid. Inside was a small, delicate tiara.

“Oh my god, you’re actually giving this to me?” Emma asked, surprised.

“Yes,” Mary-Margaret said. She lifted the tiara and handed the box to David.

“It’s beautiful,” Emma said.

“And it’s heavier than it looks,” Mary-Margaret said as she placed it on Emma’s head. “It suits you,” she said after admiring her for a moment.

“Thanks,” Emma said.

“So, We almost ready to go?” Mary-Margaret asked.

“Just waiting for Hook,” David said. “Is Neal ready?” 

“Yeah, I’ve dressed him up in a lovely blue outfit. He’s in his carrier.”

She disappeared back into the bedroom to grab Neal. As soon as she came back into the main room there came the much-anticipated (by Emma anyway) knock at the door. David went to answer it, and there stood Hook. He sauntered into the room with the crooked smile he always wore when coming to see Emma. The outfit he wore was strikingly similar to the one he’d worn at King Midas’ ball in the Enchanted Forest. He looked very…dashing. Hook, like everybody else, stopped in his tracks when he saw her. The cheeky smile feel from his face as he stared at her, and he seemed speechless.

“What, did you trade Rumplestiltskin your tongue for that outfit or something?” Emma said teasingly.

Hook gave his head a little shake. “It’s just…you look absolutely stunning. You were right, that was the perfect dress.”

“Thank you,” Emma said with a smile.

“Well it’s 6:45, we’d better get going if we don’t want to be late,” Mary-Margaret said. She hoisted Neal’s carrier and made for the door. “Come on, Henry.”

“What about you guys?” Henry asked Emma.

“They’re going to meet us there,” David said. “You have transportation worked out, right?”

Hook nodded. “As a matter of fact I do.”

“We’ll see you there, then!” Mary-Margaret said.

“Yeah, and don’t take too long!” David said as the door swung shut.

Curiosity and butterflies fluttered in Emma’s stomach once everyone else was gone. It wasn’t that she was nervous about the party; it was just that she had never been the center of so much attention.

“Are you ready?” Hook said, offering her his arm.

“Yeah,” Emma said, taking it. And arm and arm they made their way out of the apartment.

“So, what’s this transportation you have planned?” Emma wondered.

“You’ll see,” Hook said as he pushed open the door.

Emma stared. There, in the road, was a carriage pulled by two Clydesdale horses. A driver waved jovially as Hook led Emma towards it.

“Well, what do you thin?” Hook asked.

“Oh my god, this is amazing!” Emma laughed. “Where did you get this from?”

“Even New York has carriage rides,” he said. “And this is Storybrooke! Of course there’s a place where you can rent a horse and carriage. It’s just a matter of looking.”

“You know, you never cease to surprise me,” Emma said.

“Good,” Hook said with a smirk. 

He helped Emma up into the carriage and then climbed in himself, taking the seat across from her. It was a beautiful evening, and the carriage was open-air. Emma leaned back to look at the stars, reaching up to touch the tiara her mother had given her. She was right; it was heavy. 

“Killian,” she said.

“Yes, love?”

“I never thanked you properly for everything you did for me in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Oh it was nothing,” Hook said. “Bribing people, diversions, crashing balls, daring rescues, it’s all in a day’s work when you’re a pirate.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Emma said. “I was talking about when we were in the vault. How you helped me believe in my magic again. And most of all, how you helped me realize where my home truly was. I’ve never had a home before, and you made me see that I had one here. And now you’re part of that home. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Hook said, Emma’s eyes holding his. “I’m glad to hear that I’m a part of your home. You have no idea how glad.”

“Wanna know a secret?” Emma asked.

The corners of Hook’s mouth tugged up in a definite yes, so Emma leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“I’m glad too.”  
Then she kissed him, and he kissed her back. Their arms wound around each other and pulled themselves close. And they didn’t break their embrace until the driver announced loudly that they had arrived.

The road in front of the banquet hall was lined with cars and the sidewalk was dotted with people making their way to Emma’s birthday ball. Emma herself couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all. She clung to Hook’s arm as they made there way inside. The dwarves had done their jobs well. The various round tables were draped with grey tablecloths, and there were bouquets of roses at the center of each one. Tall red candles flickered from the tables as well, and there were white Christmas lights strung along the ceiling and walls. In front of the stage at the far end of the hall was a dance floor, and on the stage was a DJ stand, manned by a few of the dwarves. To complete the picture, there was a heavily laden buffet table against one wall.

“Hungry?” Hook asked her. “Dinner is first thing.”

“Yeah,” Emma said.

They joined the queue at the buffet table and grabbed plates and silverware. As the line moved forward they loaded their plates with lasagna, fresh vegetables and fruit, yeast rolls, and grabbed a sweet tea each. Emma spotted her parents and Henry and went over to join their table. Ruby and Archie were also there.

“It’s good to see you, Emma,” Archie said. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Emma smiled as she sat down. “It’s good to see you too.”

Archie was wearing his normal clothes, but Ruby was rocking a sultry, low-cut red dress with a slit up one side.

“Oh hey, I’ve been wanting to tell you,” Ruby piped up, “I keep picking up this unfamiliar scent in the woods and around the outskirts of town. It’s probably nothing, but I thought you should know.”

“Thanks Ruby, I’ll be sure to check it out. Can you tell me what it smelled like?”

Ruby frowned, wrinkling her nose. “I can’t really describe it, I’ve never smelled anything quite like it. It didn’t seem dangerous though, just out of place.”

“Okay,” Emma said. “You’re right, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

They talked and laughed as they dug into their food. By the time they had moved onto dessert (chocolate cake, cookies, lemon merengue, and apple turnovers which nobody touched), everybody had arrived. Emma was watching Regina, who was sitting alone at a corner table. Emma was surprised she’d decided to come, considering she had brought Marian back. But although Robin Hood was there, Marian was nowhere to be seen. Regina kept staring at Robin, and Robin kept staring at Regina, but they never caught the other’s eye. 

“Hey Henry,” Emma said, “why don’t you go an have dessert with Regina. She looks really lonely over there.

“Why don’t you invite her to sit with us?” Henry asked.

“I would, but I don’t think she wants to sit with me.”

“But, what happened, that wasn’t your fault.”

“It’s nice of you to say that Henry, but Regina doesn’t see it that way. You can feel free to invite her over, but I think you’re the only one of us she wants to see.”

Henry nodded. “Okay, see you later.” 

Emma watched as he picked up his huge slice of cake and made his way to Regina’s table. A smile lit up Regina’s face when he sat down. Henry said something, and Regina looked over at Emma. Their eyes met, and Regina’s face hardened. She said something apologetic to Henry, and Henry shrugged. Regina’s smile came back full force and she and Henry started talking. Emma turned back to her own slice of cake.

“She’ll get over it, you know,” Hook said.

“I’m not too sure about that,” Emma said. “Regina is the crowned expert of grudge-holding.”

“Robin’s surely not just going to forget about her,” Hook said. “I wouldn’t just forget about you if Milah came back, and you didn’t just forget about me when you found out Neal was still alive.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Emma admitted. But you know Regina.”

“Don’t worry about it, love,” Hook said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Emma,” Mary-Margaret said, “it’s time for you to make your speech!”

“Wait, a speech? Nobody said anything about a speech!” Emma said. 

“It’s tradition!” 

“I-I don’t have anything prepared, what am I supposed to say?”

“Just speak from your heart,” Mary-Margaret said.

“You don’t have to say much,” David added. “You can just thank everyone for coming if you want.”

Hook squeezed her hand under the table. Emma took a deep breath and sighed. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll see if I can pull something off.”

Emma and Mary-Margaret stood, and David tapped a class to signal for silence.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it is time for the birthday girl’s speech.” Mary-Margaret sat back down again as everyone applauded and turned their eyes on Emma. 

Butterflies evolved into bats in Emma’s stomach, and she swallowed. She looked down at Hook, who gave her an encouraging smile. Feeling reassured, Emma took a deep breath and began.

“Hi, everybody. I don’t have anything prepared, so I’m just going to go for it. First of all, I’d like to thank everybody for coming tonight. And I would also like to thank everyone who helped fight against Zelena. We never could have defeated her without you. Especially Regina.” 

Emma’s eyes found Regina’s in the crowed. She looked surprised at the acknowledgement. Henry smiled and grabbed her hand. Regina looked at him and smiled back.

“You were the one who broke the curse and gave everyone their memories back, and it was your light magic that defeated Zelena in the end. I know you’re angry with me. I know I shouldn’t have interfered and brought the past back here. I’m so sorry for the hurt I’ve cause you, and I hope one day you can forgive me. In the meantime, I wanted to show you my gratitude for everything you’ve done, and how much you’ve changed. Thank you, Regina.”

People started clapping at that, so Emma paused. Regina was looking at her again, and this time there was a small smile tugging at her lips. Henry positively beamed.

“I would also like to thank Hook, for jumping into the time portal to follow me. You could have escaped, but you didn’t. And I don’t know what I would have done without you. Thank you for following me, and for everything you did to help get my parents to meet again.

“Next I would like to thank my son, Henry. I rebelled every minute against my destiny of being the savior, but you never gave up on me. Thank you for believing in me, thank you for never losing hope, and thank you for coming to find me. I know now that you were bringing me home.”

Emma paused for more applause. When it subsided she continued, and was surprised to find a lump in her throat.

“And finally I’d like to thank my parents. I was angry with you for so long, wondering how you could have given me up. But I know it was to give me my best chance. And when I saw both of you in the Enchanted forest, when I had to help you meet again, it hit me just how much you mean to me.”

Tears were flowing down Emma’s cheeks now, just as they were flowing from her parents’ eyes. 

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’m sorry I pushed you away for so long, but thank you for never giving up. And for always being there for me. Mom, Dad, I love you.”

Applause and cheers erupted with earnest now, and Emma took the opportunity to wipe her tears away. Thank god for water-proof make-up. 

“Well, that’s enough with the sentimental stuff,” Emma said when the clapping had died down. “Now let’s have some fun! Hit it, Leroy!”

Music started playing, and everyone cheered and rushed to find a spot on the dance floor. Emma’s parents jumped up and embraced her. 

“Mom!” Henry said, running up to her. “That was the best speech ever! And guess what, I got Regina to come over!”

“Really?” Emma said, looking around. “Where is she?”

“Oh she’s right—here.” Henry said, turning to look. But Regina was nowhere to be seen.

*

This was Emma’s favorite part. The dancing, the gabbing, and the screaming the lyrics to their favorite songs. She danced one of the slow songs with her father and one with Archie, but most of them she danced with Hook. But towards the end of the evening, as the next slow song started she felt a tap on her shoulder. Emma turned to see Mr. Gold of all people.

“May I?” he said.

“Why not?” Emma said with a shrug. She took Gold’s shoulder and hand, and he led her in a slow, formal waltz. 

“That was a lovely speech you made, Ms. Swan,” he said.

“Thanks,” Emma said. “Is that why you asked me to dance, or do you want something?”

“Can’t a man dance with his daughter-in-law?” Gold said with his innocent eyes.

“Yeah, but usually you have some ulterior motive.”

“Not this time, dearie. In truth, I just enjoy talking to you. You’re one of the few people in this town who I can stand who can also stand me.”

Emma laughed. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“So, I noticed you didn’t thank me in your little speech.”

“Do you not remember me coming into your shop this afternoon for that exact reason?”

“I know, I was just teasing you,” Gold said with a smile.

“Hey, I was talking to Ruby earlier and she mentioned picking up a weird scent outside of town and in the woods. Have you noticed anything strange?”

“I think my shop’s thermostat is broken but other than that, nothing.”

“Well, if you do notice anything, let me know,” Emma said as the song ended.

“Will do,” Gold said. “Goodnight, Ms. Swan,” 

“Goodnight,” Emma said, and made her way through the crowd of dancing people, looking for Hook.

“So, what did Rumplestiltskin want with you,” a voice said from behind her.

Emma jumped and whirled around, almost tripping over the hem of her dress. 

“Hook!” she shouted. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry, love,” Hook laughed. “So, what did he want?”

“Oh nothing, just to talk to someone who doesn’t hate his guts.”

Hook laughed again and began to continue the conversation they’d been having about dangerous creatures that lived in the Enchanted forest, but then “The Cha Cha Slide” slide came on, effectively putting all mature talk on hold.

Anger, fear, loneliness, grief, disappointment; Emma was no stranger to these emotions. But what she was feeling now was joy, something she’d rarely felt before. She felt safe and happy in Hook’s arms as they danced to the last song of the night. Her eyes wandered around the dance floor, taking in the happiness that flowed all around her. A little ways away she saw Gold dancing with Belle, looking happier than she had ever seen him. Belle was wearing a beautiful royal blue dress that Emma remembered seeing in Arachne’s shop. As she and Hook moved in their circle, she caught sight of her parents dancing, gazing at each other with the most pure love she’d ever seen. Close by Henry sat at a table with baby Neal, who had long since fallen asleep.

“You know, I’ve decided what you remind me of tonight,” Hook said.

“And what’s that?” Emma wondered.

Hook leaned close so that his beard tickled the side of her face. “A swan,” he whispered in her ear.

Emma smiled, and both of them leaned in for a kiss at the same time. She let herself become lost in Killian Jones’ kiss, his scent, and his presence. And as the Storybrooke clock tower began to toll, Emma was glad that for once, the stroke of midnight had no power to undo the magic that had been cast.


	4. Revenge is Not Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we see Regina approach Rumple about revenge and then go to find Robin Hood herself. Prepare for Outlaw Queen feels!!

There’s something to be said for ordinary life. Rumplestiltskin had practically forgotten what it felt like. For the longest time, hundreds of years, life was that thing that happened to people when they weren’t fighting or fleeing, watching people they loved die, facing some great evil, or manipulating everyone around them into their grand plot. For him, all that never really stopped. It was just death, magic, deals, death, manipulation, meticulous planning, death, over and over again. It seemed like the moment one foe was defeated, the next one rose up, strong and ready for the fight. But now, there was time to breathe, and life could begin again.

There was so much freedom now, freedom to just be. The mundane was as welcome to Rumplestiltskin as adventure was welcome to the wanderlusters. He had time now, time to be with Belle and be a family. They could go on picnics together, see a movie, talk for hours about nothing in particular. They could get into the normal routine of going to work and having dinner together at the end of the day and going out on the weekends. And if things got boring, well, they could always surprise each other. 

At the moment, Rumple was in the grocery store, browsing up and down the isles, looking for the items Belle had put on the list. It had a nice rhythmic feel, grocery shopping. It was nice to be doing something so normal. Except a few of the other shoppers were giving him weird looks. 

“Let’s see,” Rumple whispered to himself, taking out the list. “Spaghetti, baguette, tomato sauce, onion, ground turkey, pop-tarts, strawberries, got all that. Next is…orange juice.”

He stuffed the list back in his pocket and made his way to the cold section. He stood in front of the orange juice, suddenly overwhelmed by the choices. There were so many different brands, and the said “pulp,” “some pulp,” and “no pulp.” Did Belle like pulp? Did she care? She hadn’t specified on the list. After some consideration, Rumple decided to go with the middle ground. If Belle didn’t want pulp, he could always magic it out. He took the carton off the shelf.

“Rumplestiltskin,” a voice said from behind him, accompanied by clacking heels.

“Ah, Regina. To what do I owe this pleasure?” he said, not taking his eyes off the orange juice he was holding. “A natural source of vitamin C, now with vitamin D and Calcium!” Fascinating.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, what the hell are you doing here?” Regina demanded.

“Well wouldn’t you know it, we’re out of orange juice,” Rumple said, shaking the carton at her for emphasis. 

Regina raised an eyebrow at him. “Really? You’re grocery shopping? Ha, I would’ve thought you’d delegate all the housekeeping chores to you’re girl. After all, she was your housekeeper once before, was she not?”

“Yes, and now she’s my wife.”

“Wait,” Regina said, frowning, “You mean you’ve had the wedding already?”

“Yes.”

“Well I wasn’t invited!” Regina said, and she actually sounded a bit indignant. 

“Nobody was, that was the point! It was just me, Belle, her father to give her away, and Dr. Hopper to perform the ceremony.”

“Should have guessed,” Regina huffed.

“Now,” Rumple said, stowing the orange juice in his basket, “What is it that you want from me?”

“I need you to kill Marian for me,” Regina said.

Rumple laughed. “Oh, is that all?”

“Emma never should have brought her back here. She should have died thirty years ago! You’d just be restoring the balance.”

“Is that so? And what about your precious outlaw? What about his son? Do you really they’d forgive you if you took the dear Maid Marian away from them?”

“That’s why you’re going to make it look like an accident.”

“She’ll still be dead. How would they feel about that?”

“I can make them forget they saw her again,” Regina said darkly.

Rumple made no response, just stared at her with the hint of a mocking smile on his face. Honestly, this woman’s relentless need to destroy people was something else. He remembered how much he’d liked that about her.

“Please,” Regina said, “just do it. I’ll give you anything.”

“Sorry, dearie,” Rumple said. “I don’t do that anymore.” And he turned and walked towards the register.

“Since when?” Regina asked, following him.

“What can I say, I’m a changed man,” Rumple said, placing his basket on the counter.

“Hahaha, is that so?” Regina said.

“Laugh all you want, dearie. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Fine,” Regina said, lowering her voice. “At least help me get my revenge on Emma.”

Exasperated, Rumple spun around to face Regina. “No, see, you’re missing the point here! I don’t make those kinds of deals anymore, and I’m not about to start breaking my promises for the sake of your grudges! Besides, Belle has my dagger.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Regina said with a shaking voice. “Emma ruined my happiness, she deserves to be punished! And I deserve my happiness back!”

“Then go and take care of it yourself,” Rumple hissed. “I’m not going to do your dirty work. But if I were you, I’d think long and hard about this before you do anything you might regret. Believe me dearie, revenge is not sweet.”

“Oh please, you’ve had more than your fair share of revenge. You beat a man half to death just because he stole a teacup!”

“And what did it ever get me? Not happiness. Not love. Just a brief, grim satisfaction. But when the rush wore off, I was always just as empty as I was before.”

“If Marian is gone I get what I want!” Regina said, a tear leaking from her eye.

“Honestly Regina, do you really think Robin Hood just forgot about you?”

Regina said nothing, and Rumple turned to swipe his credit card and pick up his bags. Oh, what had happened to his peaceful afternoon?

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Rumple said, “I must be going. Belle and I are making spaghetti tonight.”

“Spaghetti?” Regina said, a surprised crease appearing between her eyes. 

Rumple shrugged. “We’ve got to eat something. It should be fun.”

Regina gave him a long, searching look. “You really have changed,” she whispered.

“Are you disappointed?”

Regina shook here head. “No. Just…surprised.” And with that, she swept out of the store.

Rumple walked out of the store slowly, trying to decide how to feel about Regina’s comment. But then he decided he didn’t care. After all, he had more important things to think about. He was going to drive by the shop to pick up Belle, and then they would make dinner together and have a lovely, romantic evening.

*

The Dark One refusing to kill/destroy someone. Regina never thought she’d see the day. She’d told Rumple she was surprised, but that wasn’t what she’d felt. It was more like…sad. She sort of missed the old days, when she could always count on his bloodlust. Back when the mayhem was her friend. And she couldn’t believe Rumplestiltskin of all people was giving her advice about revenge. Damn hypocrite. But one thing he had said kept echoing in her head; “Do you really think Robin Hood just forgot about you?” Maybe he was right, maybe…but she had heard Robin talk about how much he loved Marian. And she was Roland’s mother. How could she, Regina, the Evil Queen, ever compare to that? 

“I have to talk to him,” she whispered to herself.

Regina had no idea where to find him, but her feet carried her towards the woods. Somehow, she knew her heart would lead her to him. Somehow, she felt him. After about twenty minutes the sun began to set in earnest, throwing the woods into semi-darkness. That was when she found him. He was sitting on a fallen tree with his back to her, just yards away. Fear clawed at Regina’s insides when she tried to think of what either of them would say, and she almost turned back. But before she could, Robin turned and saw her.

“Regina!” he said, getting to his feet. “How did you find me?”

“I don’t know,” Regina admitted. “Somehow I just knew you were here.”

Eyes locked on hers, Robin began to come towards her. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Why did Emma have to bring her back? Marian doesn’t belong here. She died. She was meant to die!”

The words were out of Regina’s mouth before she could stop them, as were the tears.

“Oh Regina…” Robin said.

“I love you! And now Marina’s back, and you and Roland are going to go back to her and I’ll be left with nothing! Again! I hate her. I want her dead. I’m sorry but you know me, the Evil Queen!”

“Regina, believe it or not this is hard on me too,” Robin said, coming ever closer to her. “Imagine that you loved someone so much, and then they were taken from you, and you thought you could never move on. But then you did, and you found someone new. And you fell in love. But now my first love is back, and it feels like I’m being ripped apart. The past that I let go of and the future I could see, each fighting for my heart. It hurts me so much.”

Hatred and anger still swam through Regina like the darkness in her heart, but at her center she felt a warm light grow. She moved like a sleepwalker towards Robin, closing the distance between them.

“You still love me?” Regina asked.

“So much,” Robin said with a small smile.

A sob broke out of Regina’s chest then, and she collapsed sobbing into Robin’s arms. He held her close, rubbing her back. 

“I’m so sorry you’re hurting so much over this. I can’t stand the thought of hurting either of you.”

“You still love me,” Regina said through her sobs like she could hardly believe it.”

“Of course I do! Regina, did you really think I’d just forget about you?”

Regina raised her head to look into Robin’s eyes. “Why wouldn’t you? I know how much you love Marian.”

“And I know how much you loved Daniel. But if he somehow came back, would you just forget about me?”

“There’s no way he can come back,” Regina said.

“I know, but imagine if he did. Would you stop loving me?”

“No,” Regina admitted. 

“I’m not saying this is going to be easy, and I’m not saying nobody’s going to end up hurt. But no matter what, I still love you. You’re beautiful and loving and a wonderful mother. I just have to figure out what to do. I need time to think. I’m going to spend some time with my men here in the woods.”

“You’re going away?” Regina asked.

“Just for a little while, so I can figure things out. And you won’t be lonely. You’ll have Henry, and I’m going to have Emma take Roland back and forth between you and Marian.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Regina looked down, playing with the buttons on Robin’s shirt. After a few minutes she looked back up into Robin’s eyes.

“Do I at least get a goodbye kiss?” Regina asked with a small smile.

Robin’s lips were on hers almost before she’d finished speaking. Regina responded with twice the enthusiasm, letting her mouth open and feeling his do the same. It was joy that she felt glowing in her heart, and as brief as it might be she was glad to feel it. She wished she could stop time and live in that moment forever, because she knew very well that it might be the last she ever got.


	5. Of Daggers and Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we see Rumple answer for his deception of killing Zelena and giving Belle a fake dagger. And then we have a surprise appearance at the end...

Belle shivered, pulling the woolen blanket tighter around her shoulders. Why was it so cold in the shop? Wasn’t it supposed to be springtime? With a sigh she rose from her perch on the couch and made her way out of the back room and into the main part of the shop, intending to find the thermostat. A flicker of white fabric caught her eye, and she turned to see the dress she’d worn for her wedding, looking lovely on a display mannequin, put there as a reminder of that most happy day. Belle smiled, running her fingers through the soft fabric and remembering the ceremony. It had been short, no guests, only Archie and her father as witnesses. Rather small, and not what she had once imagined, but perfect. Rumple had never been one for making a spectacle of his heart. She thought of what they had said to each other, the vows they had made, all they had shared. It was enough to bring a smile to her face every single time—

Whoosh! Thud! Belle suddenly found herself sprawled on the ground. Somewhat bewildered she gingerly lifted herself back up with the help of a shelf, wincing slightly as she felt her bruised backside and soar elbows. She looked back to see what she had slipped on.

“Ice…?” she muttered, bending down for a closer look. Yes, it was definitely ice that she had slipped on. She ran her fingers over it. It was a perfect patch of blue ice, stretching the length of the doorway that separated the shop from the back room. It reminded Belle of the pictures of icebergs she had seen in her books. How strange. I wonder how it got here?

As she watched, the patch began to spread. Alarmed, she jumped up and backed away. The sound of cracking was in the air, and she turned to see ice spreading outward in every direction from the ice patch she has slipped on; it crept up the walls and cabinets, clung to the motley objects in the shop, and hung in icy stalactites off the doorframes and shelf corners. Its progress was slow, but still the ice spread outwards. Frightened now, Belle reached for the cell phone Rumple had given her and hit the speed dial. Seconds later, she heard it ring in the back room. He had left his phone behind. 

“Darn,” she whispered. “Now how am I supposed to reach him? I don’t even know where he’s gone!” Then she remembered the dagger. Heart racing, Belle withdrew the dagger from her inner coat pocket and lifted it up to face level. She gazed at the name carved into the blade, pictured his face, and whispered “Rumpelstiltskin. Return to me.” Nothing happened.

Belle tried again, louder this time. “Rumpelstiltskin, come to me,” she called. Then she looked around, expecting him to materialize beside her. Still nothing. 

“Dark One I summon thee!” she all but shouted. Still, there was nothing. Belle waited several minutes, calling again and again, but Rumpelstiltskin never appeared. She didn’t understand. Why wasn’t it working? She had done just what she’d seen Zelena and Regina do with the dagger. He had always followed their orders immediately. He couldn’t resist the dagger’s power. So why wasn’t it working for her? 

Belle turned and shuffled over to the desk (being mindful of the ice), frowning down at the dagger in her hands. She stood that way for a long time, deep in thought. Memories flashed before her eyes; the day they found that Zelena had somehow died, the way the security video had gone all funny before showing her kill herself, the way Rumple now seemed to disregard the dagger’s power, how he hadn’t chided her about keeping such an important object simply stuffed in her bag, and finally how she was unable to summon him. And slowly, a terrible suspicion began to grow in her mind.

Bells tinkled as the shop door opened, and Rumpelstiltskin walked in.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” he said, a smile in his voice. “What have you been up to?”

Belle turned slowly to face him, eyes glaring, knuckles white on the hilt of the dagger. She saw Rumple’s face fall and fear enter his eyes under her stare. 

“I tried to summon you,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice. “You didn’t come.”

Rumple’s eyes widened the slightest bit and his mouth tightened. “I—yes I did, I heard you, I’m here now,” he said, trying to keep his face straight. 

“I called you 20 minutes ago!”

Rumple opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He could see his lie falling to pieces. Fear trickled through his veins like ice because he knew the truth was about to come out.

“Besides, you know I would never use the dagger unless it was an emergency. If you had come because of its summons you would be worried. You would have blown open the door and stormed in with a ball of fire in your hand!”

Rumple, of course, knew she was right. Belle could see the fear in his eyes change to terror, like she had morphed into his worst nightmare. And perhaps she had.

“So,” Belle said, moving towards him and brandishing the dagger, “why didn’t it work?” 

Rumpelstiltskin shifted his weight around, thinking fast. He wanted desperately to avoid this confrontation. “Well, it’s a very complicated magic,” he hedged, “and sometimes it doesn’t exactly—”

Anger overcame Belle, and she rammed the twisted blade into the shelf next to her with all the force she could muster. Rumple jumped in shock.

“Don’t give me that rubbish!” she yelled. “You did something! Didn’t you?” she accused.

Rumple said nothing, just continued to look more and more horrified.

“Is this even the real dagger?” she said, voicing her worst suspicion.

Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes, turning his head to the side and curling in on himself, in some sort of super-slow motion wince. 

“No,” he said in a barely audible whisper. His eyes were still closed, turned away in shame and fear, unable to look at his wife. Wife. He still hadn’t gotten used to being able to call her that. And now it looked like he wouldn’t be able to for much longer.

Hot tears dripped down Belle’s flushed cheeks. She had never felt this much anger, or betrayal, before. She wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“And you killed Zelena, didn’t you?” the tremor in her voice was getting stronger.

Rumple only nodded, still not looking at her

“So, everything you said about trust was a lie?”

Fear was interrupted by a spark of self-defense, and Rumpelstiltskin came out of his cowering state, finally looking at Belle.

“No! No, of course it wa—”

“Yes, it was! You said you trusted me, and then you gave me a fake dagger! It was fake trust! And then, you broke your promise and killed Zelena! Why? Why would you do this?” Belle was crying now, hardly able to keep shouting through her sobs.

“I did it for us, to protect you! To protect what we have! And I promised Bae I would avenge his death!”

“Zelena wasn’t threatening us! She’d lost her powers! And Bae wasn’t murdered, he sacrificed himself to save us! Knowing the price wouldn’t have stopped him from bringing you back!”

“Belle, please!” Rumple took a few steps towards her, hand outstretched.

But Belle put up her hand. “No,” she said, “you don’t have any excuses. So you wanted to kill Zelena, and to do that I couldn’t have the dagger. Fine. I might have been able to understand that if you explained. But what I can’t understand is why you didn’t switch the daggers back after you’d finished. Why don’t you trust me?”

“Belle, I do, I do trust you!” Rumple said.

“No, you don’t!” Belle said through her renewed sobs. “If you did, you would have given me the real dagger!”

“Please, you don’t understand!” Rumple’s eyes were pleading. They had been since she’d accused him of lying about his trust in her. He was leaning towards her, hand still outstretched, like he thought a hug could make it all go away. But it couldn’t, not this time. 

Belle thought about walking past him, slamming the shop door behind her. But she saw something more than fear and pleading flickering in his eyes; she saw shame. Regret. So she stayed.

“Then make me understand,” she said. 

Though fear and desperation still made his heart race, Rumpelstiltskin’s mind was clear. It was so hard for him to explain his weakness, it always had been. But he knew he owed Belle an explanation, and that what he had done was wrong. He took a steadying breath before plunging into his confession.

“I trust you, Belle,” he began. “I really, really do. When you gave me the dagger, I knew that I had your trust, and it made me want to do something to show my trust in you. So I gave you the dagger to keep.”

Belle showed every sign of interrupting, so Rumple held up his hand and quickly added, “I know, I know it wasn’t the real dagger. Please, let me finish.”

Belle nodded, still crying.

“I gave you a fake dagger, not because my trust was fake, but because I couldn’t let go of my grudge against Zelena. And you’re right, Bae wasn’t murdered, he chose to give his life. But there was…more to the grudge than that. More…hurt…than that.”

A frown creased Belle’s forehead. “And what’s that?”

Rumple’s eyes held hers in a most intense gaze, the kind only he was capable of. 

“You have…no idea what it was like to have her controlling me. She taunted me, tormented me. She kept me in a cage, in a basement. She forced me to threaten someone else’s child to get Regina’s heart. She made me hurt people, some of whom…I love. I just couldn’t let that hurt go. I know it was weak, but you know me. I’ve never been strong like you.”

Rumpelstiltskin felt tears leak from his own eyes. He wiped them away impatiently.

“But…why didn’t you switch the daggers back afterwards? Why did you let me keep the fake one?” Belle asked.

“I…can’t explain that,” Rumple said.

Belle’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?” she said, anger slipping back into her voice. “Can’t, or won’t?”

“I…can’t,” he whispered.

Hurt invaded Belle’s voice now. “So you don’t trust me after all.”

“Belle, what have I just been saying? Of course I do!”

“No, you let me keep the fake dagger, and now you can’t explain to me why. That you don’t actually trust me is the only explanation I can think of!”

“Do you really need a detailed explanation for everything? This is just like the whole thing with the magic and the spinning wheel after the first curse was broken!” Rumple said, waving his finger at her.

“You gave me an explanation for that, and I understood! That was just your own folly of keeping secrets! This is different!” Belle argued.

“Please, how is this any different? It’s you angry about not knowing everything. Why can’t you just let this go?”

“Because, you’ve been lying to me! You betrayed my trust! How can I know that anything else you’ve told me is true? Our wedding vows…how can I know your heart is true if I don’t have your trust?”

“How dare you question me? How dare you think I would lie in my vows?” he shouted

“How dare I?” Belle said. “How dare I? You’re the one who lied to me and betrayed my trust.” She yelled. “And you can’t even explain to me why! How dare you! You…you…” 

Belle cast her mind about, looking for the right words to fling at him. In her anger, she chose the two she had always told him he wasn’t, the two he was striving not to be. The two he believed he still was.

“You coward! You monster!”

Silence. A silence as cold as ice. The two of them stood there staring at each other, open-mouthed. Then Belle realized what she had said, and saw Rumple’s face crumple, the smallest, quietest of sobs escaping his lips. Belle’s face crumpled too, and fresh tears cascaded down her face. 

“Oh Rumple,” she whispered, stumbling towards him with her arms outstretched. “I’m sorry, Rumple.”

Rumple reached out for her too, and when they reached each other they collapsed into each other’s arms, letting go of the pain and regret they had been carrying. Belle clutched at her Rumple’s hair, sobbing into the soft material of his jacket. She could feel his strong arms wrapped about her back and shoulders, squeezing her tightly. She could also feel his chest shaking against hers. 

“No, no, no…I’m sorry,” he whispered into her neck. “You’re right, just like you always are.”

“Tell me what made you do this, Rumple,” Belle whispered back. “Please.”

Rumpelstiltskin said nothing for a while. He was thinking. He hadn’t been lying; he couldn’t tell why he’d kept the dagger because he himself was unsure of the reason. But he was trying to find it. Belle didn’t press him. He could tell that she could tell he was thinking about it.

“It was that feeling,” Rumple said after a few minutes.

“What feeling?” Belle asked, pulling back so she could look up at him. 

“The dagger. When someone else possesses it, when they’re controlling me with it, it gives me this most horrible feeling. I’ve only felt it a few times but I hate it.”

Belle’s eyes were full of concern. “What kind of a feeling?” she asked.

“It’s…difficult to explain. But it’s like…I’m trapped, or something. Like if I move from where I am, there will be some monstrous guard to drag me back. It’s like I can’t do anything, only sit there and wait for orders. And know that whatever I’m asked to do, no matter how horrible, I’ll be powerless to stop it. Belle, there is nothing I hate more than being powerless. I know that’s sometimes difficult to understand, but it’s the truth. And I know it’s foolish, and that you would never force me to do anything, but I was so afraid of feeling that helplessness and fear again.”

He was crying again. Belle had never really stopped. She stood there and stared at his tearstained face, all anger and betrayal being sucked from of her body like poison from a wound. 

“Belle, I’m so sor—”

But Rumple couldn’t continue, because Belle’s lips were suddenly on his. It was a passionate kiss, and it communicated more feeling, more understanding, and more love than any of their words ever could. After what seemed like an age, Belle pulled away.

“Now, go get your dagger,” she said.

“Why?” Rumple asked, his brow furrowed.

“I want to prove you wrong,” she said, smiling.

Rumple looked curiously at her, but willingly made his way behind the counter, presumably to the dagger’s hiding spot. He opened the ornately carved cabinet that hung from the wall, revealing a wooden box. He ran his hand over it, causing a shower of gold sparks (presumably breaking the spell that guarded it). Then opened the box and took out the dagger. When he turned around Belle smiled encouragingly, and he smiled back. Once he reached her, he placed the twisted blade carefully in her outstretched hands. Then he waved one hand at a spot behind her, and she turned to see the fake dagger stuck in the shelf disappear.

“So, this is the real dagger then?” Belle asked.

“Test it,” Rumple said with a small smile.

Belle waved the dagger gently back and forth, concentrating on what she wanted him to do. Rumple flourished one hand, causing a large blue butterfly to appear before her. They watched it flutter about until it dissolved into blue stars, which dispersed. When Rumple’s eyes met Belle’s, she could see anxiety flicker in them. She wanted so badly to reassure him.

“Rumpelstiltskin,” she said in a deliberate voice. “I want you to be free of this dagger. Don’t let it keep its hold over you. It’s just a dagger, nothing more. I’ll guard it well, and I swear that I shall never invoke its powers except in the direst of circumstances. This is not control, this is trust. You are not bound by this.”

Rumple had watched her with a slightly surprised expression as she had made her little speech. Now he smiled, his deep brown eyes shining.

“So…how do you feel?” Belle asked.

Rumple moved back towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist and looking at her adoringly. 

“Free,” he said.

Belle beamed back at him.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Why was it that you tried to summon me?” Worry had creased his forehead.

Belle had almost forgotten, too. She looked over Rumple’s shoulder towards the back room. The ice had stopped spreading, but it still covered a good portion of the back corner. 

“The ice,” she said pointing. “There’s ice spreading everywhere.”

Rumple looked shocked. He whipped around, darting towards the frozen doorway. He bent to examine the icy patches on the floor, ran his fingers along the frost creeping its way up the wall, and broke off one of the stalactites, which were now looking wickedly sharp.

“It was getting cold, so I came in here to turn up the thermostat, but instead I slipped on the ice. Where do you think it could’ve come from?”

Rumple was staring into nothing, with the same look on his face that she had seen when he talked about Cora and Pan. A chill that had nothing to do with the cold ran down Belle’s spine.

“What does this mean, Rumple?” she asked.

Rumple, still staring at something she couldn’t see, recited a poem.

“Her power flurries through the air into the ground.  
Her soul keeps spiraling in frozen fractals all around.  
Just one thought crystalizes like an icy blast.  
To thaw her frozen heart, you must unlock her past.”

“Who is she?”

Finally, Rumple turned to look at her. And in his face she saw the same fear and anger that he’d had when he thought about Cora and Pan. And when he answered, his voice was a harsh whisper, as cold as the ice around them.

“Elsa.”


	6. Cold Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we hear about the Snow Queen for the first time, as explained by Rumplestiltskin, who likes to withhold information.

“Who’s Elsa?”

Belle’s question caused the icy presence that had hung in the air after Rumplestiltskin had spoken the name to shatter like glass. Rumple’s eyes found Belle’s and searched them, but the fear he expected to find wasn’t there. She seemed more confused than anything else. Worried, sure, but mostly wondering. But that was just ignorance.

“I…I don’t understand…how? She…she can’t be here she can’t…of course. They must have touched the urn. Without the vault’s magic to bind her it would have been easy,” Rumple whispered to himself. 

Belle grabbed his arm and squeezed it. “Rumple,” she said, “who is she? What is she?”

Rumple looked into Belle’s eyes again. For Elsa to have caused ice appear in the shop she would have had to be just outside the shop…unless her powers had gotten stronger. Both thoughts were equally terrifying. He took Belle into his arms.

“A danger I thought long defeated. I’ll explain it all sweetheart, I will. But first I must call the others.”

Belle fumbled for the cell phone he had given her, but he stopped her.

“No no, that’s too slow. Besides, it is way to dangerous for any of them to be roaming the streets right now.”

“So what are you going to do?” Belle wondered.

“I’m going to summon them here,” Rumple said.

He stepped into the middle of the shop and closed his eyes, holding his hands out palms up in front of him. He pictured their faces as clearly as he could in his mind, imaging them standing in the shop. Then he whispered each of their names aloud.

“Emma Swan, Regina, Snow White, Prince Charming, Henry, Captain Hook, Robin Hood.”

Rumple opened his eyes and watched as they appeared one by one in puffs of purple smoke. The all looked shocked at finding themselves in the shop, except Regina. She just looked extremely irritated. He heard a baby crying, and looked over at Mary-Margaret; she was holding Neal in her arms.

“How the hell did we get here?” Emma said.

Rumple looked at her. She and Hook were standing with their arms entwined in a tight embrace, and there was lipstick smeared over Hook’s jaw.

“An excellent question,” David said, moving to stand beside his wife, who was trying to quiet baby Neal. “Gold?”

“Look,” Rumple said, putting up his hands in what he hopped was a gesture of reassurance (he was never sure about things like that). “I’m sorry to have summoned you all here like this, but something new is here in Storybrooke. Something more dangerous and unpredictable than any evil we have had to face.”

“I have a hard time believing there could be anything worse than Pan,” Emma said (having withdrawn from Hook’s embrace).

“Well think again, Ms. Swan,” he pointed to the back corner. “Do you see that? It’s ice. Ice that was formed without water, in temperatures above freezing! She was able to plant ice in my shop without coming inside, through all the spells I have up guarding this place!”

“She? Who is this, who are we fighting? And how did they get here?”

Fear disguised as anger drove Rumple’s feet towards Emma and Hook. “Marian wasn’t the only thing you brought back with you from the Enchanted Forest. One of you touched something in my vault, moved it.”

“It was just a silver urn, mate,” Hook said. “What harm could that have caused?”

“So you’re saying that something even the Dark One fears and can’t control couldn’t have caused any harm, ‘mate?’” Rumple said, exasperation thick in his voice

“Well then tell us what it is already!” Regina said. “Why did you have to summon us with magic anyway?”

“Because, it’s too dangerous to be roaming the streets right now. She could be anywhere, and her powers are stronger than any of us.”

“Rumple?” Belle said from behind him, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Tell us, who is this woman? What makes her so dangerous?”

Rumple sighed. This was going to take a lot of explaining, and there were many things about this story he wanted to keep locked away in his vault of dark secrets.

“Have any of you ever heard of the Snow Queen?” he asked.

Most everyone looked confused, but Regina laughed.

“The Snow Queen?” she sneered. “That’s just a story! It’s something people say during harsh winters and heavy snowstorms. ‘Oh, the Snow Queen is cruel this winter.’ She’s nothing more than a story!”

“You’re wrong,” Rumple said simply. “She is real, and she is extremely powerful. She comes from a far off land called Arendell. It’s in the same realm as the Enchanted Forest, but a good journey away over the sea. There she was called Elsa, and she was to be Queen.”

“How did you know her?” Belle asked.

Rumple turned to look at her, confusion in his eyes. “What makes you think I knew her?” he asked.

Belle gave him one of her special “I see right through you” looks and said, “Come on Rumple, the way you talk about her, you obviously knew her.”

Rumple gave his head a little shake and turned back around. “Well, yes, I suppose I did. I lived in Arendell for a time. This was more than a hundred years ago. I was there when Elsa was born, and then later her sister. She was born with her powers, and they only grew stronger with the years. It was a well-kept secret, but on the day of her coronation she lost control, and everyone knew what she was. She escaped into the mountains, but set off an everlasting winter in the process. The story is a long one, just suffice it to say it did not end well. There were no happy endings. I suppose based on your beliefs about happy endings, Mary-Margaret and David, that means the story is not over. And perhaps it isn’t.”

“So how’d she end up inside your vault?” Emma asked.

“Elsa wouldn’t thaw the winter in Arendell, and she was wandering further and further south, freezing everything in her path. The new King of Arendell, he wed her sister I believe, asked me to stop her. I knew what she was capable of and readily agreed, without a price. But her powers were too strong for me to defeat her on my own.”

“What kind of powers does this girl have? How could she be stronger than the Dark One?” Regina asked.

“The power that you, Emma, and I practice is a power that is learned. We aren’t born with it. Some people have more talent for Light and Dark magic than others, but it works the same. We have to be taught to harness the powers, using our emotions to evoke the magic. Elsa was born with her powers, and they are very different. What she has is elemental magic. It’s rare, but not unheard of in certain lands. There are earth, water, fire, air, and electricity magics. Elsa’s power is ice. It stems from her very soul, turning every thought and emotion into ice around her. It takes no energy, no effort, and it is stronger than normal ice. It was beautiful at times, but mostly it was dangerous and frightening. She can barely even control it.”

“So how did you defeat her?” Belle wondered.

“I needed elemental fire magic. That is her weakness. So, I went to the origin of fire; Prometheus.”

“Wait, you mean Prometheus from Greek mythology?” Emma asked. “The guy who brought fire to mortals and in punishment was chained to a rock with vultures eating his liver every day?”

“The very same,” Rumple confirmed. “But he hasn’t been suffering his punishment since the Gods vanished from this land. So I was able to find him, and ask for help. He gave me some of his magic, but at a price.”

“And what was that?” Belle asked.

Rumple turned to her and smiled ruefully. “I had to withstand the pain.”

“W-what do you mean?” Belle asked, eyes full of concern.

“I wasn’t meant to have elemental fire magic. To give me the power Prometheus had to shove it into my chest, and oh Gods did it burn. It felt like every cell in my body was on fire. I honestly thought I was going to die. But I managed to keep from throwing myself into the water and extinguishing the fire, so the magic adjusted, and the burning left only a feeling of warmth. With the power I was able to defeat Elsa and trapped her in the silver urn. I thought she was safely locked away. But now she’s back.”

“So how do we defeat her?” Regina demanded.

“I don’t know,” Rumple said with a helpless shake of the head. “I don’t even know what she means to do.

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Emma demanded.

Rumple walked over to one of his locked cabinets, opened it, and took of a box. Then he waved his hand over it, breaking the protection spell it had. From the box he withdrew a phial full of a swirling orange glow.

“What’s that?” Regina asked.

“The last of the fire magic Prometheus gave me. It’s just enough to protect us for a bit until we can figure out what to do.”

“Uh, won’t that cause us unendurable agony?” Emma said warily.

“No,” Rumple assured her. “It’s not enough to do that. It’s only enough protection.”

Rumple did Belle first. He poured a measured amount of the fire magic into his palm and carefully pushed it into Belle’s chest, just over her heart.

“It’s warm,” Belle gasped.

“I know,” Rumple said, smiling. 

One by one he gave them all a bit of the fire magic. Mary-Margaret had a bit of a fit over giving some to baby Neal, but in the end she relented, accepting that it was the only thing that could protect him.

“This will make you immune to her ice magic, at least for a little while. It would be best for you not to court fate, however. Put protection spells over your homes, and don’t go wandering off by yourself. I’ll have to do some research, to see if there’s anything we can use to fight her. Belle…?”

But Belle was already at the bookshelf, picking out likely volumes and stacking them on the counter. Rumple smiled in spite of himself. She was so perfect.

“Now,” he said, “I can return the rest of you home, or you can walk. Your choice.”

Regina immediately disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke. Emma reached for Henry and led him out of the shop, followed by Hook, David, and Mary-Margaret. Robin Hood, who had looked strained since appearing there, approached Rumplestiltskin.

“Can you return me to where I was?” he asked.

Rumple smiled, waved his hand, and Robin Hood disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.

“Come on, Rumple!” Belle said from behind a stack of books. “We’ve got work to do!”


	7. Rumple's Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a darker turn as we take a look into Rumplestiltskin's haunted mind...

Chapter 7: Rumple’s Nightmare

 

Time seemed to have stopped. Or it might’ve been travelling at the speed of light. Then again, perhaps it didn’t exist at all. After due consideration, Rumplestiltskin decided it was all three at once.

Rumple seemed to be floating like a kite above the clouds. Although he walked at a brisk pace, he didn’t seem to be moving forward. Instead, it seemed like the scenery rushed past him, changing rapidly and slowly. Then suddenly he was on the ground, looking up at the night sky, so full of stars that he couldn’t find a single constellation. He looked to the left and saw the Milky Way stretched across the sky like a ribbon. It was rather beautiful, Rumple thought. 

Looking down, he discovered he was in the sky again. It was still night, and the darkness was absolute, like every single star had been snuffed out like candles in a crypt. Wary now, Rumple leaned forward, just like he always did in the rare dreams where he could fly. But the air around him seemed to be solid, as though the darkness was a palpable presence. He strained his eyes, trying to see through the inky blackness, but there was not one speck of light to guide him. A shiver of fear went up his spine like a spider crawling up his neck to hiss evil words in his ear. He tried to move, to take a step forward, but he fell. He scrabbled for something to grab on to, but of course there was nothing. Rumple fell down, down through the blackness, which chocked and smothered him, pressing in on all sides.

Suddenly, before he was even aware of it, Rumple was standing on solid ground, no longer falling. He opened his eyes, and immediately motley images began flashing before him like wild thoughts, or a slide projector that had gone absolutely out of control. Rumple tried to make sense of them, but they were here and then gone too fast, and there were too many to count. They flashed by faster and faster and faster until suddenly they stopped, leaving one vision.

The smell of brine was in the air, and the floor beneath him rocked gently backward and forward. Rumple was standing on a ship, and to his horror he realized it was the Jolly Rodger. And in front of him, her face twisted with loathing, was Milah. She leaned forward and hissed those words “because I never loved you.” Rumple’s vision went red, and the words echoed horribly around him, becoming like nails that pierced his mind. He tried to run, but his feet were made of lead. As he watched, Milah’s face began to melt away on one side, revealing a horrible half-skull. She threw back her head and laughed, and the sound of it was like knives grating on stone. Then she plunged her hand into his chest, ripping out his heart, and then crushing it to dust. Rumplestiltskin felt the pain of it in his chest, like his entire being was being choked away. He would have dropped to his knees if he hadn’t been frozen in place. And still that horrible laugh echoed all around him…

Then darkness engulfed Rumplestiltskin again. He was still falling, but this time it was in slow motion, like he was sinking to the bottom of the ocean. He could hear voices all around, whispering things like “coward” and “monster” over and over again. Then Cora appeared out of the darkness, floating down level with him. She wore her wedding dress and held a small ornamental box in her hands.

“I’m sorry my dear Rumple,” she said, “but I can’t go with you.”

“You know, I never understood,” Rumple said. “How could you rip your own heart out?”

“Oh Rumple,” she said with a mocking smile. “You know I’m not the first of us to sacrifice love for power.”

Cora disappeared, and Rumplestiltskin felt solid ground beneath his feet. Then he heard the sound of a woman crying; hopeless, miserable crying, in a voice he recognized.

“Belle!” Rumplestiltskin called, and ran towards the sound. But he couldn’t reach her; the sound of her crying kept moving around, and he could see nothing through the blackness. 

“You are a coward, Rumplestiltskin!” came the voice from behind him.

Heart clenched with fear, Rumplestiltskin whipped around. The scene was illuminated like the corner of a stage. He was looking at a dank, cold, stone cell. Belle was chained to the wall, her face gaunt and waxy looking, her chestnut hair dank, and her eyes dead. She was glaring at him from underneath her brow; or at least, she would have been glaring if she hadn’t looked so defeated. 

“We could have had happiness if you just believed that someone could want you.” She croaked.

“I know,” Rumple whispered. “I’m sorry.” 

“You never even tried to find me again. You cast me out and left me for dead! I waited two years for you to rescue me. I endured cruelty at the hands of the Queen, and you never came! I thought you loved me! But you never came to me! I was left in that asylum for twenty-eight years and you never came!”

Belle’s voice was shrill and cracked as she yelled at him. Rumplestiltskin could hardly bear it. 

“I’m sorry Belle, I’m so sorry!” he cried. “I didn’t know, I didn’t know!”

Belle started to scream, a long, drawn-out scream of suffering and misery. Cora and Milah appeared beside her, and then the room started to spin, and they were all shouting their sharp words and accusations at him. Faster and faster spun the ghosts of his past around him, and their words grew louder and louder. Rumplestiltskin sank to the ground, eyes shut tight and hands over his ears, but he could not block out their voices. The chaos grew until he thought he’d go mad.

An icy gust of wind blew over him, leaving the silence and stillness of death in its wake. Terror and cold gripped at Rumplestiltskin’s heart, and he opened his eyes. Before him he saw ivory skin, hair as white as snow, and huge eyes like shards of blue ice.

“My heart may be frozen,” the woman said, “but ice can be melted. Your heart is black as coal, and no amount of love could ever lighten it. And you wouldn’t even care, would you?”

With a cry, Rumplestiltskin sat bolt upright in bed. The momentum caused him to fall onto the floor, quilt and all, with a loud thud. He lied there, breathing heavily, still petrified by everything he’d seen in his dream.

“Rumple?” said a worried voice.

Rumplestiltskin looked up to see Belle, who had crawled over to the edge of the bed to look down. His horror must have shown on his face, because she immediately slid down beside him and took him in her arms.

“Rumple, are you alright?” she asked. She kissed his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, and his jaw below the ear. “What happened? Please tell me.”

“I—it was just a dream…” he trailed off.

“Yes,” Belle said with a nod, “whatever happened, whatever you saw, it was just a dream.”

Rumplestiltskin felt that he was looking at her, but still all he could see was that white face. “It was…horrible,” he said.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Belle asked, rubbing his arms soothingly.

Rumplestiltskin started to shake his head, but Belle kissed him on the lips and looked at him comforting eyes.

“Please tell me about it,” she said. “It will help, I promise.”

It was funny how good at opening him up she was. Rumple nodded, and she smiled.

“It started out as an ordinary dream,” he began. “Then everything went dark, and I was falling. I saw…Milah, Cora, and you, but you were all…hellish.” He shuddered.

“What do you mean, hellish?” Belle asked.

“I could never do it justice,” Rumple said. “Hellish will have to do. You were all frightening to behold, and you…said things.”

“What sort of things?” Belle asked.

“Some were actual things they said, our parting words. And some were things I’d always feared.”

Belle looked down at her lap and whispered, “What did I say?”

“What you said when I cast you out. And…you yelled at me, asking my why I left you to suffer in Regina’s tower.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry Belle, I never should have believed you were dead, I should have looked for you, we could have been together, it was all my fault you were locked away for twenty-eight years, I’m so sorry, can you ever forgive—”

“Rumple!” Belle interrupted, placing her hands on either side of his face. “Have you really beaten yourself up over that? You couldn’t have known, I know you didn’t. My imprisonment was Regina’s doing, not yours.”

A weak smile played at Rumplestiltskin’s mouth. What had he ever done to deserve someone like her?

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Belle guessed. “Something you’re not telling me.”

I should have known, Rumplestiltskin thought. He sighed. He didn’t want to tell anybody about this, especially not Belle. But he couldn’t see a way around it. In order for them to face this new threat, all had to be known.

“You were right when you said I must have known her.” Rumplestiltskin said.

“Elsa?” Belle said.

“Yes, Elsa. I knew her when I lived in Arrendell all those years ago. I didn’t tell everyone earlier because it’s such a long story, one I’ve tried hard to forget.”

“I thought there was something you weren’t telling us.”  
“I can never hide anything from you, can I?” he said with a smile. “Yes, there is much more to the story, and I told some of it wrong.”

“Are you going to tell me now?”

“It’s a story for the morning, sweetheart. For now I will only say that I knew her, and it was partly my fault that I had to imprison her in that urn.”

Belle nodded. “Okay. But tell me, what did Elsa say to you in your dream?”

Rumple stared at her, confused. He hadn’t mentioned her part in his dream.

“Sorry,” Belle laughed. “I figured she had been there too once you started talking about her.”

“Right,” Rumple said. “Well, she said the exact same words she spoke to me the moment before I imprisoned her; ‘my heart may be frozen, but ice can be melted. Your heart is black as coal, and no amount of love could ever lighten it. And you wouldn’t even care, would you?’ and she wasn’t wrong.”

“Rumple,” Belle said, “you don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I’ve had a hundred years to think about it, and she was right.”

“You’re heart is not dark, Rumple,” Belle said, gazing fixedly into his eyes.   
There is light inside it, I know there is. Believe me.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Rumple said. “After all you’ve learned about me, after all you’ve seen me do?”

“I can feel it,” Belle whispered, placing her hand over his heart. “Sometimes, you let the darkness win. But at the core, your heart is light and warm and full of love. I’ve seen it, and I’ve felt it. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” Rumple sighed. 

“And I love you too,” Belle smiled.

Then Rumple pulled her close, his lips finding hers. And they did not draw apart for a long time.


	8. The Demon's Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rumple tells a sinister story, and we learn dark secrets...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of the Demon's Mirror in this chapter is based on part of the original tale by Hans Christian Anderson, "The Snow Queen"

“Rumple. Rumple!”

Rumplestiltskin jerked around at the sound of Belle’s voice. He had been staring out the window into the garden for the last—he didn’t actually know how long.

“What?” he said in surprise, for he had practically forgotten he wasn’t alone.

“I’ve been talking to you for five minutes, have you not been listening?” Belle said.

“Oh, I’m sorry Belle,” Rumplestiltskin said, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. “I was…thinking.”

“You’re nervous about telling me and everyone else your story, aren’t you?” Belle guessed. When Rumple remained silent, she continued. “Well, if you had been listening earlier you would have heard me say that I would never judge you, and nothing you’ve done could make me stop loving you, so you needn’t worry. And when you inevitably said you doubted the others would be so understanding, I would have told you it doesn’t matter what they think.”

“And then I would have said it is not an easy story to tell,” Rumplestiltskin said, walking towards her. 

“And then I would have said just imagine you’re only telling it to me,” Belle said. “And besides, it’s best if everyone knows.”

“And I would have wondered at how you’re always able to bring out the best in me. And said you’re right, of course.”

“And I would have said that’s what true love is; helping each other and standing by one another. And of course I am.”

“And then I would have said I love you,” Rumple said.

“And I would have said I love you too…”

By this time they were standing very close together and speaking with soft voices, leaning towards each other. Their lips met for a brief moment, but then they were most inconveniently interrupted by a knock at the door.

“They’re here,” Rumplestiltskin whispered, unable to hid the nervousness in his voice even after Belle’s reassurance.

“Remember,” She said, gripping his shoulders. “Just imagine you’re only talking to me, and everything will be okay,” Then she went to answer the door. 

Rumplestiltskin heard the door open and muffled greetings coming from the foyer. He lurched almost desperately back to the window, whishing he didn’t have to drag back this ghost. He’d done such a nice job of burying it. The footsteps coming down the hall sounded absurdly like executioners coming to take him to the gallows.

“Hey, Gold,” came Emma’s voice.

At the sound, Rumplestiltskin turned his head, almost looking around.

“So, this is your house,” She continued. “Honestly I have to admit I knida thought you lived in your shop.”

Rumplestiltskin laughed inwardly. Nothing like reality-check Emma to put things back into perspective. He turned around to face everyone. Emma was in the front, looking around with interest. Henry was close behind, followed by the Charmings. Next Hook sauntered in, followed by Regina and Robin Hood, who were determinedly avoiding each other’s gaze while taking it in turns to stare at each other.

“I have to admit, it’s a pretty nice place,” Emma said.

“Thank you, Ms. Swan,” Rumplestiltskin said. “Please have a seat,” he gestured at the long couch and chairs in his living room. 

Emma smiled and sat down on the window-facing end of the wrap-around couch. Henry and Hook both raced for the seat next to her. Henry won, so Hook sat on armrest while Emma laughed. David and Mary-Margaret joined them. Regina and Robin sat on the kitchen-facing end, on completely opposite sides. That left the two armchairs. Belle took the one facing the wall, leaving Rumplestiltskin to take the one facing everyone, his back towards the window.

“So, what’s the story?” Emma said. “How did you know Elsa, and why did you imprison her in that urn? And most importantly, what does she want?”

Always so blunt, Emma Swan was. Rumplestiltskin smiled ruefully, getting ready to plunge into his story.

“That is what I’m going to tell you today, Ms. Swan,” he said. As for what she wants I can only guess. But the rest, I know…and I will tell you the story as thoroughly as I can. But first, there’s some…backstory, if you will.”

“What do you mean?” Regina asked. “What kind of backstory?”

“First, I must perform an ancient spell.”

“What kind of spell?” Belle asked.

“The story I need to tell you is written in The Book of the Dark One. This book contains all the knowledge and work of every Dark One there ever was. Such knowledge must be kept in a place only the Dark One can reach, hence the spell.”

Belle nodded, understanding but still nervous. 

“The spell is easy enough, but performing it makes me…” he didn’t finish the thought. The truth was performing the spell made him feel as though there was some dormant creature stirring the inside him. As if his power was it’s own being.

All eyes were on him; it was time to begin. Rumplestiltskin gave a quick florish, and the dark curtains closd over the window behind him. With a gentle wave of his hand the candles placed around the room came to light.

“I must ask for absolute silence,” he whispered to them. They nodded gravely, and you could have heard a pen drop.

After a brief devilish smile (he was a showman, after all), Rumple closed his eyes, held out his hands, and began a most dark, ancient incantation.

“I am the vessel of the Dark One.  
Dark power, I summon thee  
So I may look upon the knowledge  
Of the evil inside of me.”

At this point the room hummed with a strange energy. Rumple always thought the air tasted like pennies. Or blood. His eyes flashed open, and they were once again the mad red-brown of the Dark One.

“As the Darkness calls, so the Demon answers.  
As the Demon calls, so the Darkness answers.”

Now the candles burned blood red, and the energy was forming into a corporeal presence in front of Rumplestiltskin. It was like a cloud of black vapor.

“Malitia, Potestas, Vindicta, Solus;  
Ego sum, qui in tenebris.”

As the spell was finished, a terrible face appeared in the cloud of vapor. For a moment it hung there suspended, the candles glowed black, and Rumplestiltskin flickered back to his Dark One form. Then it was gone, the candles faded to blue, and a book fell into the human Rumplestiltskin’s lap.

The book was ancient; the silver of the spine was tarnished, and the pages were yellowed, giving off that odd vanilla-like scent of decaying paper. The cover was gilded in gold, with gems like diamond, sapphire, and ruby encrusted upon it. A rather beautiful thing really, for what it contained.

Everyone gathered there looked duly terrified by what had just happened. Rumple gave a sort of wry smirk. He felt eyes on him and turned to see Belle gazing concernedly at him.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Rumple assured her, touched at her concern.

“Alright Gold,” Emma said, “let’s hear this story that’s so important.”

“I’m afraid there’s rather a lot to cover in order for you to…understand all the aspects of my…story. But bear with me, it should be entertaining enough.”

The spine creaked as Rumple eased it open. After clearing his throat a few times, he began to read.

“Introduction: My life’s work

After years of uncertainty and fear, magic has been all but leeched from the Land of the Gods. Every deity and being of power who dwelt in that land have now fled to shadow realms, cushioned safely in the shadows of every known land. I, however, found my way to a land where magic was strong, a land that was closer to the Land of the Gods (which I know as Midgard, having lived the majority of my life in the time and region of the Norse gods) than any other; The Enchanted Forest.

“Here, I hope to continue the work I started in Midgard. Long I have studied the art of dark magic, learning it from my mother Hecate, as well as Seth and Loki themselves. But I feel as though I’ve plateaued, and the only way I see to be able to become even greater is to make myself a god. I have tried many spells, many sacred places and many magic items, but none have worked. But now I believe I have the answer. 

“The Enchanted Forest is richer in magic than even Midgard was. With this amount of power, I believe I can summon together the dark forces, which were released by Pandora from the ancient Box, and bind them together with magic to create a sentient dark power, which I can then absorb and control. Everything is in place, and tonight will be the night my life’s work will be complete.

“The Making of the Dark One:

It was the perfect night for dark magic; full moon on a midwinter’s night. I travelled to the chosen spot, and drew a circle in the snow, making sure the mark reached down to the soil. Then I conjured runes of power and placed them within the circle. It began to hum with energy. When this was done I called out to the surrounding forest, and a whole manner of dark creatures and sorcerers emerged from the trees to stand around my circle. I had gathered every willing participant I could find to help me pull of this feat. I commanded each of them in turn to spill a drop of their blood into the circle, and to describe with one word why they needed magic, why they turned to darkness. Some said malice, some said power, some said vengeance, and some said loneliness.

“Once these crucial ingredients were added, I spoke my chosen words of power in the most ancient tongue known to magic. I will not write them here, for their power is greater than what can be contained by the binding of this book. And behold, a black vapor began to rise up from the circle, turning every light from our candles and torches black, like a corporeal darkness. Thrilled, I reached out for my creation and called it to me. It came, and draped itself over me like a hooded cloak made of night. That’s where it is now. It keeps trying to grab my pen.”

A couple gasps interrupted Rumplestiltskin’s reading, and he looked up to see both Mary-Margaret and Belle with their hands over their mouths, and everyone else showing signs of being quite unnerved.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Rumple said with a smirk.

“I would have gone with frightening, personally,” Hook said. 

“Yeah, for real,” Emma agreed. “Gold, what exactly is the point of this story? Is it relevant to our situation at all?”

“Of course it is!” Rumple snapped. “I wouldn’t waste time with something unimportant. But I will admit, this particular part of the story relates rather…indirectly.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Regina said.

“It means,” Rumple said, exasperated, “that in order to understand my story, the one involving Elsa, you need to hear a certain recollection in this book. And in order to understand that, you need to hear this recollection I’m reading now. So if there are no more questions, I’ll finish reading.

“Observations in the Study of the Dark One:

‘The Dark One’ seems to be a fitting name for my creation. It may be the most mysterious thing I’ve ever encountered. But while it does have some sentience, it cannot truly function on it’s own. It simply drapes itself over me much like a cloak, and I can access its magic, as I will it.

“The Dark One has been behaving…strangely. It’s supposed to be impossible to have any sort of demeanor without me, and yet somehow it seems…restless.

“My heart pounds as I write this. The Dark One is growing stronger. It’s seems I’ve made a grave mistake in my calculations; this power seems to be developing a will of it’s own! Sometimes I could swear I hear it whispering to me.

“I am terrified. The Dark One is taking over me. It is taking all my will to write this, as it has penetrated deep into my mind, whispering, churning, manipulating, and planting ideas in my head. Help me, oh gods help me! All magic comes with a price, and now it seems this is mine to pay. Why did I choose this? Why did I ever

“The silly man (oh excuse me, demigod), tried to destroy the dark power! He took a twisted dagger and enchanted it to contain the power of the Dark One. Then he stabbed the power with it! But all that happened was the Dark One absorbed into the knife, then flowed into the man, finally overtaking him completely. Now the Dark One is me.”

Rumplestiltskin paused to look up at his audience again. They were all staring at him, captivated. And most of them were a bit horrified.

“Next is the part that I really wanted you to know,” he murmured, and turned a few pages.

“Studies in Magic—Arrendell:

I go wherever magic is strongest, oldest, and most mysterious. So of course at some point I had to come to Arrendell. It is one of the oldest places in the Enchanted Forest, and therefore contains some of the oldest magic. There are all manner of magical creatures here, including earth trolls, sprites, and water dragons. I think I’ll stay awhile.

“I’ve been in Arrendell for several years, my castle is built, and my studies are well underway. But today something interesting happened; a young man turned up at my door wishing to become an apprentice! Upon questioning which involved the flashing of my twisted dagger, the boy admitted that there were many rumors and speculations about me drifting about the kingdom. Apparently, I’d gained a bit of a reputation! I had had some dealings with villagers and so-forth, of course. Anyway, it seems that the people think I’m some sort of demon, and that I will teach the art of dark magic to those who want to learn. Fascinating.

“After travelling through the kingdom, I’ve gained quite a following. There are many, many people who want to learn from me, the Dark One. I relish the idea of having followers. Perhaps soon I will rule a kingdom of my own, and be in place to take over the entire realm in an empire with my army of sorcerers. They call me ‘Beelzebub.’ I rather like it.

“Many of the most remarkable magical items I possess are things of my own making. One is the Mirror. It is an enormous mirror, vast and loathsome. If you were to look into it, you would not see the world as it is; instead, you would see everything beautiful shrunken, hidden by everything ugly and horrible, which the mirror makes swell, huge and impossible to ignore.

“I, as well as many of my followers, believe the mirror shows us the true nature of the world and humanity. My followers took the mirror and travelled far and wide, desiring to look at the entire world through the mirror. So that they may see the ‘truth.’

“I have just gotten word that my mirror has been destroyed. It seems one day, as my followers flew high above the clouds, looking down on the Earth, they dropped it. It fell to the ground and shattered into a million pieces. But I do believe that each piece still holds the full power of the Mirror.

“I was right, of course. There are now a million mirrors that show the true ugliness of the world. Quite swiftly they have made there way into nearly every realm (though I may have had something to do with that). Most of the fragments are no more than dust, but sometimes pieces get stuck in a person’s eye, and from then on they see no beauty in the world, only the ugliness. Some of the larger pieces are made into eyeglasses or became parts of windows, and those people also suffer, but not to the same extent. And some poor, unfortunate souls will come to possess looking glasses made with pieces of the mirror, and while they could see beauty in the world, they could see none in themselves.”

A loud thud resounded through the room, making everyone jump; Rumplestiltskin had closed the book rather forcefully.

“How horrible,” Belle said in the silence.

“I know,” Rumple agreed, giving her a rueful smile.

“And you actually think this legend is true?” Regina said skeptically.

“Oh I know it is,” Rumple said, glaring at her. “It’s written in the Book of the Dark One, where every Dark One recorded their knowledge and secrets for the next Dark One to see. I’ve read the story many times. Anyway, what I needed you to know.

“Alright, but what does this have to do with you and Elsa?” Emma asked.

“I’m getting to that,” Rumple snapped. “Now, around a hundred years ago I made my way to Arrendell, interested to see the magic described in the book for myself. It was several years later that I first saw Elsa. I was in a hidden nook in the mountains over a hot spring, studying the creatures that lived there; trolls.

“I’m sorry, but did you say trolls?” Hook interrupted with a snort.

Rumplestiltskin shot him a death glare and he sobered.

“Yes,” he continued, “trolls. They are ancient creatures native to that region, and nothing like the dull bridge-dwelling creatures you all know. These creatures are intelligent and practiced in magic. They look odd, as though they are made out of things you could find in the woods by a child, and they have the ability to look like boulders or threes or rotting logs at will. While I was there, the King and Queen of Arrendell appeared with their two daughters, Elsa and her sister Anna, who were both young children at the time. Elsa had struck Anna with her powers, and she was near death. The eldest of the trolls was able to heal her, and I listened as he told Elsa about her powers…”

Here Rumplestiltskin stalled. This had been the easy part. Everything left of the story was difficult, to tell and even think of. He looked over at Belle. She smiled at him, and gave him a slight nod. Keeping his eyes on her, Rumplestiltskin continued his story.

“From that moment my attention was caught, and I was consumed with curiosity and fear of her…”


	9. The Snow Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn even more dark secrets, and Rumplestiltskin's relationship with Elsa...

Chapter 9: The Snow Queen

**FLASHBACK**

After years and years of waiting, here it was at last; coronation day, the day the castle gates would be opened and I would finally be able to see the young Queen again. She’s sure to be beautiful, I thought. Many of the people around me were expressing the same thought, only they counted the princess Anna as well. The girl was little to me, just another ordinary woman. I was only interested in Elsa, who I knew to have incredible powers. I glided through the crowed into the chapel, where I watched the coronation from the shadows. There was fear in her eyes. Nobody else saw it, but I did. I felt a spark of sympathy for her. 

The ball that followed was like any other, a bore to be honest. I spent the time leaning on a pillar, my magic making me unseen and unbothered, and entertained myself watching the people; but mostly her. 

“What did I ever do to you?” a voice shouted

I snapped up, fully alert, and followed the sound to where Anna and Elsa were having an argument. Anna held one of Elsa’s gloves, and Elsa was making for the door, clearly desperate for an escape. 

“What are you so afraid of?” Anna shouted

Elsa turned and swiped her ungloved hand through the air, shouting, “I said enough!”

Ice exploded out of her, creating a semi-circle of huge stalagmites erupting from the ballroom floor. Silence fell, a duke whispered “sorcery,” and Anna breathed her sister’s name. “Elsa.”

Elsa, of course, fled. I followed. She rand out of the front gate, and pushed her way desperately through the crowd. She was out of control, freezing everything she touched. People were shrinking away from her, afraid of her power. And they were right to be. But as they became more afraid, I became more entranced. 

When Elsa reached the fjord she kept on running, the water freezing to ice under her foot. I followed her, wrapped in a cloak of nightfall. Behind me I could hear Anna calling out to her sister, and the man called prince Hans calling out for Anna. It was he the two sisters had been arguing about. Anna wanted to marry him, but Elsa refused to bless the marriage. But one look and I knew that Elsa was right. For with one look I could tell that Hans was incapable of real love.

When we reached the far bank I paused and looked back. The fjord was freezing solid before my eyes, and snow fell thick and fast over the castle. And it was supposed to be summertime. I grinned, delighted by Elsa’s immense power, and continued to follow her into the mountains.

She walked for a very long time, plunging deeper and deeper into the mountains. I was not typically affected by the cold, but the storm blowing over the land behind her was extreme, and I began to long for a warm fire. Elsa however, seemed completely unbothered. 

When we reached the summit of the North Mountain, she stopped. I watched her from a distance, still concealed in my cloak of nightfall. As I watched, Elsa began to sing, casting aside her glove and royal cloak, and letting her power reign free. The flurries she made were beautiful, swirling around her like dancers to her song. I saw her attitude change from the fear that always haunted her to joy, and her smile was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen, as was her magic. 

Because Elsa had always kept her magic hidden, I never knew the extent of her powers. But this night on the mountainside, she was letting it all go. She began to make more than flurries, ice, and snow; she began to build a staircase out of ice, creating it as she climbed it, until it stretched high over a chasm in the mountain and up to the peak. There, she made a sheet of ice, then lifted it off the ground, great pillars forming beneath her, pushing her up to the sky. Walls began to form, and soon I lost sight of her; but still I stood there in awe, watching this magnificent ice palace form before my eyes. Only when it was finished did her song stop.

I must admit, after seeing what Elsa could do, I was a little afraid of her powers again. But my fascination with her was stronger, and I wasn’t at war with myself for long. I crept towards the staircase and climbed it carefully; the ice was pure and flawless. When I reached the top, I pushed the heavy ice door open. They swung inward with a cold grinding sound. I crept inside, and caught my breath in awe of the place; there were huge pillars all around, and a magnificent chandelier hung from the ceiling. A grand staircase stood opposite the doors, two sides curving up from each side to meet in the middle, where other staircases led to the upper floors. The light from the setting sun was reflected and bent through the pure ice, giving every surface a radiant glow of color. I stared all around me, devouring the beauty of her power as I made my way slowly across the room and up the stairs. 

The second floor of Elsa’s palace was just as beautiful; but it also had another set of heavy doors. I opened them curiously, and found myself on a balcony facing west, so there was a stunning view of the sunset. I gazed out at the northern mountains, so wrapped up in my thoughts about Elsa that I didn’t notice she’d walked up behind me.

“Who are you?” I heard a frightened voice say.

I spun around to see Elsa standing in the doorway; but she didn’t look the same. She had somehow transformed her royal robes into and ice blue dress with a train, thrown away her tiara, and let down her hair so it hung in a thick braid over her shoulder. The look suited her well.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammered, so flustered by being caught off-guard that my smooth and cunning demeanor had fallen away for a moment.

“Who are you?” Elsa said, more forcefully this time. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, well allow me to introduce myself,” I said, my usual flamboyancy swiftly returning. “Rumplestiltskin.” I bowed low with a flourish of the hand, making sure to roll the “R” for effect.

Strangely enough, this showmanship only had about half the effect it normally did; Usually the other person dropped their guard, giving into intrigue, confusion, and even becoming flustered. Elsa, while she looked somewhat intrigued, had not dropped her guard and was not in the least bit flustered. But she was still afraid. They always, always are. 

“Rumplestiltskin,” she repeated. After a pause she added, “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here? Most men, at least the sane ones, know better than to wander up into the North Mountains in the middle of a storm.”

“Well, I’m not most men am I, dearie?”

“…No, I suppose not,” She agreed after giving me the once-over.

“As for sanity, well…it’s all relative, isn’t it? Niya ha ha ha!”

“You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”

Oh, she was determined. I was beginning to like her more and more. “I’ve known you for a long time, my Queen,” I said, choosing my words in an artful way that I pride myself on. “Even since you first struck your sister, all those years ago.”

Shock flitted across Elsa’s face, and I felt the temperature drop a bit.

“Oh yes, I was there in the trolls’ gully when your parents arrived. I must say I was very much intrigued by your powers. I was disappointed when your parents closed the gates. I would have liked to have met you before now.”

“Wait, are you saying you followed me here?” Flurries danced in a sudden wind around Elsa, and I hurried to reassure her, afraid of what she might do. Sympathy, kind words, that was the way.

“Yes, I saw what happened at the coronation,” I said. “I’m sorry they all had to find out that way. But your gift, it’s so strong, so beautiful…you couldn’t have kept it secret forever. And to do so would be such a waste.”

“Gift?” Elsa laughed without humor. “This isn’t a gift! It’s a curse!”

“I know it can feel that way at times,” I said softly, taking careful steps towards her. “I understand. Sometimes I feel that the power I hold is too much of a burden to bear. I can only imagine what you feel, considering your power is so much greater than mine.”

“Really?” she said, the flurried wind around her dying away. “You…understand?”

“Of course.”

“Can you help me?” she said, drifting towards me, desperation in her eyes.

“Yes,” I whispered, my heart thumping wetly in my chest. We were very close together now. Elsa looked at me expectantly, so I started to explain. It was strange; I’d never had a student before.

“You see, magic is all about emotion, what you feel. You can’t control it with your mind. I can see a storm raging away inside your soul, Elsa. You can’t shut that off by willing yourself not to feel. It is like trying to hold back the tide with a broom.”

“So how do I control it?” 

“You must let yourself feel. Let go of your fear of your powers and embrace them. Strong emotions like fear and anger, feelings of passion; these are what propel your magic outwards. Calm emotions like peace and comfort, those are the feelings that reign it in, give you control. Passion is your kick, peace is your reigns.”

“I see…” she said. “But I don’t have any memories of peace.”

“You must find them if you’re to have any hope of controlling your powers.” I said. She was very close to me now, and my own calm was slipping away.

“Will you help me Rumplestiltskin?” she asked.

“Yes, Elsa,” I promised. We were in each other’s arms at this point.

Elsa smiled at me, fear leaving her eyes for the first time. Passion got the better of me and I kissed her. She seized up with shock, then relaxed and returned the kiss. When we pulled away she looked dazed, and I imagined I did, too.

“You’re cold,” I said.

“You’re warm,” she said.

A gentle snow had started to fall, and the floor was blanketed with soft powder. There was no more talking.

 

I couldn’t spend every waking moment with my Snow Queen. I’d come here for other purposes, after all. I travelled over the land of Arrendell, studying its secret magics. But at night I returned to the ice palace, and tried to help Elsa control her powers. It was difficult. Her only time of peace and happiness was too long ago for her to remember, and the painful memories too numerous and strong. But I didn’t care. She was my obsession, more powerful than the pursuit of my own powers. Her power, beauty, and cleverness were so alluring. 

But one night, a few days after we had met, I came back to find that something was horribly wrong. I giant snow-monster guarded the steps to the palace, and a storm was raging in the night sky, spreading out in all directions. I hurried to the palace, avoiding the snow-monster with a trick of invisibility. Once inside I saw ice fracturing, wickedly sharp stalactites and stalagmites erupting everywhere. The air was deathly cold and filled with the sound of cracking.

Panicked, I raced up the stairs to the room with the balcony. There I found Elsa pacing back and forth, chanting, “don’t feel, don’t feel.”

“Elsa!” I said, rushing towards her.

“Rumple!” She cried, whipping around and running to me. 

“What happened?” I demanded, grasping her shoulders.

“My—my sister, she—she came to see me, to try and bring me back home, but—but Arrendell has frozen over, I set off an eternal winter, and I can’t stop it, I don’t know how! I got so upset that I—I—exploded, and—and—I stuck her! In the heart this time!”

She was crying now, and a blizzard was forming around us.

“Elsa, calm down,” I said, “You’ll freeze us to death.” I shivered involuntarily. 

“Rumple, please tell me you can save Anna, please, please, please!”

“I’m afraid…only love can thaw a frozen heart.” I said, teeth clenched to keep them from chattering in her icy embrace. 

“Love?”

“The only magic strong enough to transcend realms and break any curse.”

“Then…then maybe…maybe Hans could—”

I laughed without humor. “Do not count on Hans to save her. Than man is incapable of love.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember the story of the Demon’s Mirror I told you?”

Elsa nodded.

“There is a small piece in Hans’ eye. I’ve seen it. He sees only ugliness in the world. He cannot love anything.”

“I knew there was something wrong with him,” Elsa reflected. “I’ll have to save her then. It’ll take me awhile to get there…will you protect her until I do?”

“Of course,” I said, after a pause so brief that she didn’t notice. “Anything for the Snow Queen.”

But inside I hated the idea of Elsa saving her sister. If she did, she would finally learn to control her powers. She would return to her place on the throne, and where would I be? Not at her side, certainly. But I couldn’t refuse her. So I went. A swift kiss and I was gone.

Shivers that had little to do with the cold ran down my spine. I honestly wasn’t certain what would happen to Anna. Her heart would be frozen, I knew, but what then? Would she die? Freeze to solid ice? Fall into the same coma a sleeping curse caused? Become like those who had pieces of Demon-Mirror in their eyes? I didn’t know. And I hated not knowing, hence the nervous shivers.

All was quiet as I stole my way into the castle. Everything was absolutely still, as though the very air was frozen. There was even ice inside, creeping its way up the walls, crusting over the windows, freezing shut the doors. As I neared one of the drawing rooms, I heard cold laughter from inside. The door flew open with a simple flick of my wrist, and I flew inside. 

My eyes were met with a very strange scene; Anna was huddled on the couch, her hair half white, shivering so violently it looked like she was having convulsions. Hans stood in front of the fireplace, pouring water over the grate to snuff out the flames. Neither of them had noticed me yet. Anna tried to move towards Hans, but she was too weak and fell to the floor. 

“You won’t get away with this!” Anna stammered.

“Oh, I already have,” Hans said with an arrogant smile, and turned to leave.

That’s when he saw me. He stopped in his tracks, looking startled, but quickly composed himself. 

“And who might you be?” he said.

“Rumplestiltskin,” I said, with my usual bow and flourish, and then added, “Or as others know me…the Dark One,” raising my head a little and glaring up from under my brow. This added a menacing tone, quite necessary for dealing with idiots, arrogant pinheads, and those who might be trouble that I don’t want to ally myself with.

“Hmm…” Hans mused. “I’ve certainly never heard of you, but I must say that you have to be the most pathetically twisted creature I’ve ever laid eyes upon.

My eyes narrowed; my back arched and my chest rose up, like a snake ready to strike. I’d forgotten the mirror piece in his eye. With one swipe of my hand, Hans flew out of my way and slammed into the wall with a satisfying crash. Smirking, I made my way over to Anna and crouched in front of her. She looked up at me with a wise amount of fear. 

“Wh-wh-who…are you?” she said, and there was a glint of her sister in her eyes. Bravery must run in the family. 

“I am Rumplestiltskin, friend and comrade of Queen Elsa.”

“E-Elsa?”

“Yes. She’s on her way here. She asked me to come protect you.”

“Sh-she’s coming?” She smiled, and I saw happiness in her eyes.

“Indeed…” I muttered. Elsa never looked at me with that happiness. “But before she does, there are some…things…I need to figure out.”

Confusion flickered across Anna’s face. I grabbed her arms and hauled her up to a kneeling position, so that our faces were level. 

“What is happening to you?” I hissed earnestly. “What? Tell me!”

“Elsa froze my heart,” she said, looking frightened. 

“I know that, I’m asking what is happening to you now!”

“The t-trolls said I would d-die if it wasn’t thawed!”

“I’m not sure that’s true,” I retorted. “But, there’s a simple way to find out! I must warn you, this may hurt.”

With that I plunged my hand into her chest, feeling for her heart. She gave a choking gasp, looking down in horror as I ripped her heart away. It was pure, solid ice. Like the finest ice sculpture ever carved. It was almost glass-like.

“Hmm, fascinating…” I mused. “How do you feel? Physically, I mean.”

“The same,” she gasped.

“Well, that means it wasn’t going to kill you. If it were, you’d feel just a bit warmer. In that case, there’s no problem in you keeping this,” and I shoved her heart back in place. 

Anna sucked in a noisy breath, like one who’s just plunged into icy water. And right before my eyes, she started to change. Her hair changed completely to white, like Elsa’s. Her lips and the tips of her fingers turned ice blue, and a delicate frost began to form across every inch of her pale skin. She clamped her eyes shut, whimpering and shaking. Then, as suddenly as the transformation began, it stopped, and Anna slumped down. 

She wasn’t crumpled on the floor, but rather slumped forward, still perched precariously on her knees. If I hadn’t been holding her shoulders, she may have fallen. 

“Anna?” I said tentatively.

Slowly, very slowly, Anna lifter her head to face me; her face was a mask of ice, no flush of blood in her cheeks. Her eyes were glassy, empty of all emotion and feeling.

“What?” she said in a detached, almost sing-song voice.

I sat there shocked. I hadn’t expected this result at all. It was like she was living ice; cold, empty, and unfeeling. Behind me I heard Hans groan and shuffle to his feet.

“How dare you,” he muttered, stumbling towards Anna and me. “I am Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, soon to be king of Arrend—”

He stopped abruptly. I looked over at him, and saw him staring, wide-eyed, at Anna. There was something—not love, of course—but like reverence in his eyes. I looked from him to Anna and back again and back again and back—of course. Ice was pure, innocent in the simplest definition of the word. There was no good or bad in it, it was simply pure. It was perhaps one of the only things on earth that someone looking through the Demon’s Mirror could find beautiful (along with precious metals and jewels). And so Anna was the only person Hans could feel any sort of “love” for. Only the sort of love one feels for material things, but still. That can be powerful at times. 

“She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Hans whispered, in awe. “She must be mine. You, Rumstumpkins or whatever your name was…you know about magic, yes?”

“Rumplestiltskin,” I growled as I stood.

“Whatever, do you know magic?”

I nodded.

“Well, what is she like, how does she live? You must tell me!”

“Well, I’ve never seen anything like this before, but…I think it’s safe to assume she will need very little. You might try feeding her and giving her water, but I doubt she’ll take it. She must be occupied, but with so little feeling she’ll be easily entertained. And I’m quite certain that she won’t age. She’ll stay like this, pristine and un-changing, forever.”

“Then you must make me immortal too!” Hans demanded. 

“Oh don’t be silly dearie, I can’t just go around giving out immortality like daisies! And of course, I never work without a price, and I have no use for riches, so…”

I turned to leave, sauntering towards the door.

“I’ll give you anything!” Hans promised.

The magic word. I stopped in my tracks and smirked; I love it when they say that!

“Anything?” I said, turning on the spot. “Well in that case, maybe we can work something out. How does two hundred years sound?”

Hans was frowning like a pouty toddler. I barely suppressed a giggle.

“I can’t give you immortality, dearie, I don’t have that power! But surely in two hundred years you’ll be able to find someone who can. Two hundred years is how long I’ve been immortal, therefore it is all I can give you. Do we have a deal?”

Hans grinned. “We do,” he said, and grasped my hand.

“Excellent!” I said. Deals always excite me. “Now, there is the small matter of the price…”

“Name it,” Hans said.

“Your heart,” I purred, with the smallest of laughs.

Hans looked startled.

“Ah, ah, ah, you said anything!” I said, pointing an accusing finger. “Besides, it’s not as though you’re using it.”

“All right, take it,” He said.

With a gleeful smile, I snatched for his heart and ripped it out, giggling. His heart was small, like a child’s, and hard and cold as stone. But it was not blackened, as it would have been if Hans knew how to feel deeply. I slipped the little thing into an inner pocket. 

“Now for my two hundred years,” Hans said.

Wordlessly, I reached up and grabbed the back of Hans’ neck, pinching tightly. Then after a few whispered words, I closed my eyes and blew purposely outward. A small tendril of purplish-black smoke appeared on my breath, and snaked its way through the air and down Hans’ own throat. He shuttered, gasping for breath and doubling over as the magic set. Then he was still, and slowly uncurled into a standing position.

His eyes, which had before been a dull green, were now the poisonous, luminescent green of a serpent.

“You have the power of dark magic at your command now, too. I’m not going to tutor you, but I daresay you’ll find the way on your own.”

Desiring no further interaction, I vanished in a cloud of smoke. The last thing I saw of them was Hans lifting Anna in his arms like a china doll.

I appeared on the bank of the frozen fjord, where I’d followed Elsa across just a few days ago. A sudden icy wind cut through me, and I looked up to see a storm raging towards the castle, and a small blue figure running along in its wake. Elsa. I ran out to meet her, desperate to keep her away from her sister.

“Rumple, what are you doing?” she shouted over the roar of the wind. “Where’s Anna?”

“It’s too late Elsa, she has frozen! We have to get out of here!” 

“No!” she shouted in despair. “It can’t be! I have to try, I have to—” 

But she was cut short as I lifted her up and draped her over my shoulder. 

“What are you doing? Put me down! PUT ME DOWN!”

I ignored her, and we vanished together in another cloud of smoke.

We appeared in the upper floor of the ice palace, Elsa still struggling in my grasp. I set her down and took her face in my hands.

“Elsa. It’s too late. She has frozen, and Hans is guarding her. I’m sorry.”

“Tell me she isn’t dead,” Elsa demanded, eyes fierce. “Please. Tell me she isn’t dead.”

I stared into my Snow Queen’s eyes, planning to tell her that her sister was stone dead, no hope of revival. But as my eyes were locked with hers I realized, to my horror, that I loved the woman there, and not just the power and strength. And I couldn’t lie to her.

“No,” I said after a long moment. “But she might as well be. Her heart is frozen, and she has become no more than a living ice sculpture. There is no warmth in her cheeks, no feeling in her eyes. She is empty.”

Horror widened Elsa’s eyes. “But, love can still thaw her, right? I can still save her?”

“Yes,” I whispered after a beat.

She smiled. “Then I’ll go at once.” And she started walking towards the door.

“No!” I said, grabbing her arm. “I can’t let you go out there, it’s the storm of nightmares out there!

“The cold never bothered me, anyway,” she said impatiently.

“But Hans is guarding her! He’s taken her as his queen!”

“You really think I can’t handle Hans?”

“Elsa, I can’t allow you to go,” I insisted, and started pulling her towards her bedchamber. 

“Yes, you will!” she shouted indignantly.

“No! You will stay right here until I decide what to do!” I was very angry now, consumed with ridiculous jealousy. 

Suddenly I felt her icy palm on my arm, and immediate agony followed as my blood froze. I released her with a cry of pain and outrage. I conjured a ball of fire and threw it at her. It hit her squarely in the chest, but she merely cried out in shock, the fire leaving her completely unharmed. There was too much ice in her blood. She glared at me and conjured a large icicle in her hand. Then she swung at my head with all her might. I felt a cold, hard blow, then everything went black. 

 

It was so cold. I groaned, feeling my sore head, and ran a hand over the injured spot to heal it. I opened my eyes and was immediately blinded by the high morning sun reflecting off the ice. I shivered, and conjured a handful of bluebell flames, which I set on the ice floor in front of me. I was very, very angry.

A low grinding came from behind me, and I turned to see the huge doors swinging open, and Elsa shuffling in, her head bowed. I heard muffled cries coming from beneath her hands, as she was covering her face. I was about to stand and start yelling when I noticed sticky scarlet staining the flawless blue. Long gashes covered her arms, chest, and face. I felt the blood drain from my face and rushed to her, hands grasping her shoulders, staring hard at her face.

“Elsa, what happened?” I hissed.

“H-Hans…” she cried, “h-he attacked m-me. I c-couldn’t save my s-sister. She looked s-so empty!”

I ran my hands over her, healing the gashes, mending the rips, and clearing up the blood. Then I carefully pried her hands from her face.

“I’m sorry Elsa,” I said. “When I gave him the powers I didn’t think he’d ever be able to use them efficiently, let alone just hours after he got them. Of course I’ll have to kill him now, but…”

“You mean…you gave Hans those powers?” 

“He wanted prolonged life to match your sister’s, and I’m always willing to make a deal if the other is willing to pay the price.”

“I don’t believe this,” Elsa was backing away from him, and there was a glare of betrayal in her eyes.

“What, I thought you knew that about me! And if you were listening you would know that I never expected him to be able to use magic! After all, he can’t feel the right emotions!”

Elsa’s chest has heaving, and she looked more livid than I had ever seen her. Fear of her quickly returned. Wind and flurries were swirling around her, getting stronger and stronger with every word.

“You left my sister with that maniac. Even though you knew how much she meant to me, you left her there defenseless after giving Hans dark magic! I knew I should never have trusted you, and to think that I—well, it doesn’t matter now. How dare you. How…dare…YOU!”

On the last word she threw her head back and screamed it. All the magic around her was sucked back in before exploding out of her chest in all directions. I threw up hands of flame to protect my head and heard from the onslaught. The fire did nothing to stop or lessen the impact of the ice, but it did protect my heart. I felt again the agony of my blood freezing, but his time all over. I focused the fire through my veins to thaw it. By the time I was finished, Elsa had gone.

Two days passed, the temperature dropping every hour. The wind howled, and the air was so thick with falling snow it was impossible to see more than a foot in front of you. That’s when I felt the call; Rumplestiltskin, Rumplestiltskin. I answered immediately.

To my surprise, I found myself in the throne room of Arrendell. It was completely frozen over. There were numerous fires burning, but the air still stung everywhere it made contact with skin. Hans was sitting on the king’s throne, wearing the crown, with Anna beside him.

“Thank the gods you’ve come,” Hans said. “Something must be done about Elsa. She’s threatened to freeze the entire land to death if I don’t relinquish Queen Anna to her. But I could never give up such a treasure. And Anna has told me (she still retains some memories) that Elsa doesn’t know how to thaw the land anyway. Please, you must get rid of her. Kill her, lock her away, banish her to another realm, I don’t care what you do, just get rid of her. I know you ask for a price—”

“No,” I interrupted. “I’ll do it. It happens that I agree with you. She is too dangerous. I…I’ll do what I can to stop her. Then I vanished from the castle for the last time.

 

**PRESENT DAY**

 

For a moment, Rumplestiltskin didn’t realize he’d stopped talking. The reverie he’d fallen into was so deep that coming out of it was like waking slowly from a vivid dream; you become more and more dethatched, and suddenly you realize none of it was real. 

When Rumple came back to himself, he saw everyone he had summoned there staring back at him, with judgment in their eyes. The urge to flee was so strong in his chest and legs that he was shocked he was still sitting. He wanted so very much to run. He made to rise and magic himself away, but something held him back. That’s when he noticed the soft, warm hand clutching his. Slowly, he looked over to his right to see Belle perched on the arm of his chair, holding his hand, and looking at him with something like sympathy in her eyes. When she caught his eye she smiled, and Rumple found the strength to continue.

“Well, you know the rest,” he said. “I sought out Prometheus and procured fire magic from him in order to fight Elsa, and I succeeded in imprisoning her in that urn. And…and I suppose that answers the question of what she wants, as well.”

Regina shook her head with a scorning laugh. “Honestly, what is it with you?” she said. “My mother, my sister, the help, and now this? How many more women do you have locked away in those three hundred years?”

Indignation bubbled up in Rumplestiltskin’s chest, and he turned to stare at Regina with what could only be described as a “really?” expression. 

“What, I’m just saying,” Regina said defensively.

“Nevermind that,” Emma said, “What’s important is figuring out what to do about Elsa. Clearly she has it in for Mr. Gold, so we can assume that whatever she plans to do will involve him. The question is—”

“Oh I don’t think there’s any question,” Hook interrupted. “He took away something precious to her out of jealousy, then tried to kill her when she tried to get revenge! It’s basically what he did to me!”

“And such a pity it was that I didn’t succeed with you,” Rumple said.

“You want to say that again?” Hook said, standing up and advancing on him.

“Oh, I’ll say more than that,” Rumplestiltskin said, following the suit. 

Emma jumped up and planted herself in front of Hook, holding him back. “Hook, stop it!” she said in her firm sheriff’s voice. 

At the same time Bell hurried up and dragged the arm Rumple had raised to perform a spell down with surprising strength. “Come one, Rumple, I thought we’d settled this. Don’t let him goad you.”

A tense moment passed while the two men glared at each other. Then Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes and sat back down, and Hook followed the suit. 

“To answer your question, Ms. Swan,” Rumple said as though nothing had happened, “I think it’s best that we do nothing at this time. She’ll be disoriented and afraid, so pursuing her now would just make everything worse. So for now, we’ll just wait and see what she does, if she does anything. In the meantime be careful, and nobody under any circumstances should wander off alone.

Not everyone looked very happy about this suggestion so he added, “If anybody has any better ideas, I’m all ears.”

Nobody did, so they began to file out. Rumple could hear them muttering to each other about his story as Belle led them out, and he knew what the dinner-table discussion would be about tonight. The thought made him sick.

When the front door had finally shut behind them, Rumplestiltskin let out a shaking sigh and covered his face with his hand, dropping the pretense he’d been carrying and collapsing in on himself. Honestly, why did he care so much about what they thought of him? He never had before. Gods, perhaps Regina was right; perhaps he had changed, and now he wanted everyone to think better of him. How stupid.

“You know,” a voice said from right in front of him, “I don’t think all of this is because you care what they think.”

Rumple looked up to see Belle perched on the arm of his chair again. He must have looked confused, so she continued.

“I think this is because you care what I think.”

“I’ve always cared what you thought,” he said.

“Well, you needn’t worry. I don’t look down on you for anything you did. This was a hundred years before I met you, and even if this had happened then it wouldn’t have surprised me, or made me think any less of you now that I know you so well.”

“That can’t be the whole of it,” Rumple said, shaking his head and turning away.

“There’s also the fact that I think you’ve forgotten; you never actually told everyone what happened with Milah and Cora, or even Zelena. Just me.”

“You’re right, I had forgotten that!” Rumple said, looking back at her. 

Belle laughed. “You’re so silly sometimes.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too…just promise me something.”

“What?”

“Promise me that when the trouble really starts, you try to actually fix things with Elsa instead of just going strait for the fight and killing her or locking up her again.”

Rumplestiltskin looked at his wife for a long moment before saying, “I promise.”

With a smile, Belle slowly slid into his lap and stayed there for a long time.


	10. How to Thaw a Frozen Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we find Elsa, and discover what she really wants...

Flurries danced in the icy breeze just as they had done for the last three days, and Emma’s impatience had finally gotten the best of her. She was out patrolling the woods, bundled up and packing heat. She knew it was dangerous to be out alone, but she had never given much heed to warnings, even if they did come from Mr. Gold. Still, she didn’t tell anyone else where she was going, knowing they would try to stop her or at least accompany her, and she didn’t want to put anyone else in danger. 

If Emma was honest with herself, she didn’t know what exactly she was looking for or what she hopped to achieve. She just couldn’t stand to sit there doing nothing anymore. And secretly she thought Mr. Gold’s reluctance to confront this Elsa had less to do with danger and a lot more to do with his dislike of confronting his goddamn mistakes. Emma had noticed this working with him throughout her years in Storybrooke. 

“If I were a vengeful ice witch, what would I do?” Emma mused as she wandered through the trees. She didn’t notice that the flurries were turning into thick snowfall. But then she stepped on something slick, and with a cry she fell into the bed of pines straw. Groaning, she picked herself up and looked to see what she had slipped on; it was a trail of pure blue ice, leading west into the deep woods. After a moment’s hesitation, Emma followed it.

The further Emma walked, the colder the wind got. The snow stuck to the ground, piling up in deep drifts, and she started to notice huge icicles hanging off the frozen trees. After about ten minutes, Emma found herself in a clearing, blanketed in untouched snow. Towards the edge was an old tree that stuck out into the irregular clearing, and in its branches was a tree house made entirely out of ice. An icy staircase spiraled its way down the trunk to the ground. Emma walked towards it curiously, her boots crunching in the fresh powder. Could Elsa be up there, she wondered? Maybe she should go up and see.

Halfway across the clearing, Emma heard what she thought was a second set of footsteps behind her. She stopped, and heard nothing. She started walking again, and the sound returned, along with an unpleasant prickle at the back of her neck. They were definitely footsteps. She stopped, and the footsteps stopped with her again. Slowly, Emma reached down to her belt and drew her gun. She steeled herself, then spun around to face the threat, gun at the ready.

In front of her was a woman, a bit younger than Emma, with white hair and wearing a glittering blue dress. Emma wasn’t really sure what to do; she hadn’t thought this far ahead. But then the woman, presumably Elsa, lunged towards her, arms raised menacingly, and Emma shot. Elsa cringed and flung her hands in front of her, and the bullet pierced a wall of solid ice that had suddenly appeared in its path. Elsa raised her head with a glare and flung out her hand towards Emma. Emma felt her hands freeze and looked down to see ice forming over the gun. The barrel was coated shut the trigger was frozen stiff, try as she might to pull it again. She flung the now useless weapon aside and staggered backward, scanning the clearing for something else she could use—a branch or a stone—but everything was buried under three feet of snow. 

Esla advanced on her again, arms outstretched most menacingly. Emma backed away until she collided with a tree. Before she could slip around it and make a run for it, Elsa’s hand slashed through the air and five enormous icicles shot out of the ground and stabbed through her jacket and pants, pinning her to the tree. The fifth one, wickedly sharp, advanced towards her neck.

“Who are you?” Elsa hissed, right next to Emma’s face.

“Emma,” she gasped. “Emma Swan.”

“Where am I?” Elsa demanded, and the fifth icicle crept closer to Emma’s throat.

“I can’t very well tell you if I’m impaled, can I?” Emma said.

Elsa narrowed her eyes, then waved her hand and the fifth icicle dissolved. 

“Where am I?” she repeated. 

“Storybrooke, Main,” Emma said. “In the Land Without Magic.”

“Then how am I using magic?” Elsa asked. 

“The town has magic. It’s a long story,” Emma waved her hand dismissively.

“Alright,” Elsa said, “now tell me how long I’ve been imprisoned.”

“Take away the rest of these ice spikes and I’ll tell you.”

Elsa considered for a moment, then waved her hand again to dissolve the remaining four icicles.

“All right, tell me,” Elsa said.

“You’re not gonna like the answer,” Emma said, nervous about her reaction.

“Tell me!” she demanded.

Emma sighed. “About a hundred years,” She said.

“What?” Elsa gasped, and Emma noticed that she looked more horrified than angry.

“I…I’ve been trapped in that urn for a hundred years? But that’s…no…no!”

Snow began to swirl around Elsa’s clenched form, ice crept up the trees, and the temperature dropped. Emma reached for her belt once again, and drew the dagger Hook had given her.

“Stop this!” she ordered in her sheriff’s voice, brandishing the knife. 

Elsa gasped in surprise and grabbed Emma’s arm, clamping it tight. But Emma’s blood didn’t freeze as Mr. Gold had described in his story; instead she felt a surge of warmth, and Elsa leapt back with a cry of pain. She stared at her hand, and Emma saw an angry pink burn fade back to pale skin before her eyes. 

“Fire magic,” Elsa whispered. Then she turned towards Emma. “You know Rumplestiltskin, don’t you?”

“Listen,” Emma said, holding up her hand in an instinctive defense gesture. “I don’t know what your plans are here, but you should know if you’re going to hurt anyone, you’ll have to go through me and my family. And that is an army worth reckoning with.”

The sudden frost faded, and Elsa gazed at Emma with an astonished look on her face. “P-plans?” She stammered, “You think I have plans? I’ve just woken up in a strange land after being imprisoned for a hundred years, and you really believe I’m planning to declare war on you? I don’t know what kind of villain Rumplestiltskin has painted me, but I never meant to hurt anybody. I just wanted to save my sister!”

Tears sparkled in Elsa’s eyes, and froze to icy beads as they ran down her cheeks. Emma stowed her dagger away in her belt.

“Hey,” Emma said, “you’re sister’s still alive, you know. Mr.—ah—Rumplestiltskin said she would be immortal.”

“Really?” Elsa said, wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” Emma said.

“But…she’s still all the way in Arrendell; a completely different realm.”

“Listen, come back to town with me. We can talk to Rumplestiltskin and everybody else about what to do.”

“He won’t want to help me,” Elsa said bitterly.

“Hey, it’s been a hundred years since you’ve seen him. And believe me, he’s changed. At least, in some ways.”

“Even if that’s true, there still Hans. Rumplestiltskin gave him dark powers, and my magic wasn’t strong enough a hundred years ago. I can’t imagine how strong he is now.”

Emma thought for a moment, then suddenly remembered something about Gold’s story and gasped.

“What?” Elsa said.

“Rumplestiltskin has Hans’ heart!” she cried. “That’s the price Hans had to pay for his immortality!”

“But what does that mean?” Elsa asked. 

“If we have Hans’ heart, we can control him, even kill him!”

“Really?” Elsa said, wide-eyed again.

“Hold on, I have to call David and let him know about this.”

Emma took out her phone and hit the speed dial. It was answered almost immediately.

“Emma!” David’s voice crackled over the line.

“Hey, David,” Emma said, sensing that a lecture or at least a worried speech were on the horizon.

“Where are you? Hook showed up about ten minutes ago asking where you were. We told him you were out with Henry, but then he said he saw him with Regina! We were worried sick, I was just about to call you!”

Emma listened to his rant, feeling a bit guilty that she’d left without an explanation. When David paused for a breath, Emma heard the sound of running feet on a wood floor.

“David, is that Emma? Oh my god, is she okay?” she heard Mary-Margaret say.

“Guys, I’m fine. I just went out to do some patrolling in the woods.”

After those words Emma heard what sounded like a scuffle over the phone, then Mary-Margaret’s worried voice.

“Emma, that’s dangerous! God, I can’t believe you went out there alone after what Gold said!”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I know, I’m sorry, but I’m fine. Listen, this is important. I need you send Hook to find Regina and Henry.”

“No need, they came with Hook.”

“Okay, great. Saves time. Now I need all of you to go to Mr. Gold’s shop, you see I…I found Elsa.”

A pause. Emma thought she heard Mary-Margaret’s sharp intake of breath.

“You…you found…Elsa?” She repeated.

“Yeah,” Emma confirmed. 

There was an outbreak of chatter on the line, and Emma heard Regina’s voice over the rest of them saying, “Damn, does that mean she’s been captured and we have to go and rescue her?”

“Listen, it’s fine,” Emma said. “Mary-Margaret, tell them it’s fine. You just get everybody down to Mr. Gold’s shop, and I’ll be there soon. I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

Another slight pause, and then Mary-Margaret said, “Okay Emma, we’ll see you there,” then the line went dead.

Emma hung up the phone and slipped it into her pocket, then turned to Elsa. She was standing a few feet away, looking nervous.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“Oh, just my parents. We’re going to go meet them and Rumplestiltskin so we can figure out what we’re going to do.”

Elsa looked more nervous than ever at that idea.

“C’mon,” Emma said, holding her hand out to Elsa. “Let’s go back to town.”

Hesitantly, Elsa took Emma’s outstretched hand. The former’s hand was cold.

“This aught to be good,” Emma said, and she let Elsa out of the frozen forest.

**

Emma and Elsa arrived at Mr. Gold’s pawnshop just moments after David, Mary-Margaret, Regina, Henry, and Hook did. They were milling about the front door when Emma and Elsa walked up. Elsa had been walking slower and slower since they’d gotten out of the trees, and Emma practically had to drag her towards the others. She left a trail of sleek ice in her wake, and flurries had started to fall. Startled by the sudden chill wind, the others look around. When they saw Elsa, David put a hand on his sword, Regina flexed her fist, and Hook fingered his hook.

“Hey, guys,” Emma said with a casual tone she hoped would ease the tension. “As you’ve probably guessed, this is Elsa.” She gestured at the woman beside her.

Elsa waved half-heartedly, not meeting anyone’s eye. David (thankfully) let go of his sword. Regina gave Elsa the once-over and crossed her arms.

“So,” Regina said, “you’re the woman who gave Rumplestiltskin a run for his money.”

“You know him?” Elsa said, looking at Regina.

“Know him?” Regina laughed. “He taught me everything I know.” And she conjured a handful of flames for effect.

Elsa stared at the flames, looked back at Regina, and cocked an eyebrow. “If Rumplestiltskin really has told you the whole story,” she said, “you’d know that kind of fire can’t do me any harm.”

For a moment Regina looked angry, but then she gave a small smile. “I like you,” she said. “Anyone who can give Rumplestiltskin a fight is worth having on your side.”

Elsa gave a confused little smile, then turned to Emma. “Speaking of the devil,” she said, “where is he?”

“Well,” Emma said, “this is his shop. Why didn’t you guys go in?” 

“I don’t think he’s here,” Mary-Margaret said. “The door’s locked, and the closed sign is in the window.”

“I was just about to use magic to open it when you walked up,” Regina said.

“Well there’s not much point if he’s not there,” Emma said, peering in the window.”

“Oh, he’s here,” Elsa said, also moving to the window. She placed a hand on it, and ice began to creep over the glass, stemming from her palm.

“How can you tell?” Emma wondered.

“I may be frozen, but I still know what fire feels like,” she said.

Emma glanced at the others, but they looked just as confused by this statement as she was, so she turned her attention to the lock.

“Let’s see if we can get this open, shall we?” she said, and placed a hand over the lock. Her palm glowed purple for a moment, then faded. She tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“That’s funny,” she said, “I can’t unlock it.”

“Let me see,” Regina said, striding over. She also tried the lock, but to no avail. Frowning, she ran her hands over the door.

“He’s sealed the door with blood magic,” Regina said, incredulous.

“Why would he do that?” David asked.

“He must really be worried about Elsa,” Mary-Margaret suggested. 

“But what if we needed to talk to him? What if we’d discovered something important? Which we have!” Emma said.

“Knock, maybe?” Henry suggested.

Everybody stared at him, then Emma shrugged.

“Worth a try,” she said, and rapped loudly on the door. “Gold, you in here?” she called. No response.

“I know he’s here,” Elsa insisted.

“I just don’t understand why he would use blood magic to seal the door,” Emma said.

“Well he certainly doesn’t want a fight with her,” Regina said, pointing at Elsa. “And besides, you know full well who else he might be protecting in there.”

“You mean the lass Belle?” Hook said.

“Who’s Belle?” Elsa asked.

“Gold’s wife,” Emma answered.

Elsa looked shocked, but most everybody was still focused on the problem of the lock.

“Well we still need to talk to him,” Emma said, thinking. “Regina, did you say it was sealed with blood magic?” she said after a moment.

“Yeah, why?” Regina said.

“Henry is Gold’s grandson, they share blood!” Emma said.

“Wait, Rumplestiltskin has a grandson? With his wife? Already?” Elsa looked even more shocked.

“Oh no,” Emma said distractedly. He had another wife and a son two hundred years before he met you. His son ended up in Neverland and then in this world, and then I met him and had Henry.”

Elsa looked like she was trying hard to wrap her head around this, but Emma’s attention was focused on Henry.

“So what do I have to do?” Henry asked.

“Just place you’re hand over the lock,” Regina said.

Henry did as he was told; he put his hand over the keyhole, they heard the lock click, and the door swung open.

“Nice!” Emma said, and stepped over the threshold. Then she turned back around. “Hey, I’d better go in first and explain to him. You guys stay out here with Elsa. I honestly don’t know what his reaction will be, especially if he has Belle with him.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” Elsa said, glaring into the shop.

“Still, just wait out here,” Emma said, and she stepped inside.

The lights were all dimmed, except for the ones in the ornamental display cases, which reflected light off the jewels inside. Emma heard shuffling coming from the back room, so she made her way over. She pushed aside the little curtain, then stopped as suddenly as though she’d walked into an invisible force field.

Gold and Belle were on the fainting couch, in each other’s laps, running their hands all over each other, kissing fiercely. Emma turned her face away in embarrassment.

“A-HEM!” she cleared her throat loudly.

The two froze mid-grope, and snapped their heads around to stare at Emma. Belle immediately leapt to the other side of the couch, her face scarlet; Gold sat bolt upright with an almost comical expression of shock. But it quickly changed to a glare.

“Oh for god’s sake!” he shouted, fixing his jacket. “Doesn’t anybody knock anymore?”

“We did. Nobody answered,” Emma said.

“Maybe, that was because we didn’t want to be disturbed!”

“It’s important!” Emma said.

“Of course it is,” Gold muttered, reaching for his cane and standing up. “Anytime the smallest bit of trouble comes up, it’s all—” here he spoke with deepest sarcasm—“Oh Mr. Gold! Oh Rumplestiltskin! Oh, you’ve got to help us! Someone’s put a curse on Storybrooke, I can’t find my keys, It’s the end of the world!”

Belle had been looking at her lap, biting the lower lip of a sheepish smile. But when Gold started up with his sarcasm, she started giggling behind her hand. 

“What are you laughing at?” Gold asked angrily. 

Belle put up her hands and tried to sober up, but then she caught Emma’s eye and they both started laughing uncontrollably. Gold just stared at them like they both had grown extra heads. 

“How did you get in here, anyway?” Gold asked once they’d got themselves under control. “I sealed that door with blood magic.”

“Hey mom!” a voice said from behind Emma. She looked around to see Henry sidling up next to her in the doorway.

“Oh, of course,” Gold said, rolling his eyes. “I’d forgotten.

“Henry, I thought I told you to wait outside,” Emma said.

Henry shrugged. “It was getting really cold outside. Then I heard you guys laughing, so I decided to check it out.” He looked at Belle sitting on the couch and Gold standing next to her, both looking a bit disheveled. “So, what were you guys doing in here?” He asked.

“Oh, nothing important,” Gold said, sarcasm dripping from his voice yet again. “We were just sitting here having a rousing discussion about the world economy! So glad you interrupted us!”

Emma and Belle collapsed into fits of giggles again, and Gold put an exasperated hand to his face.

“Why’s that funny?” Henry asked, confused.

“Oh, never mind Henry,” Emma said, wiping her streaming eyes. “Nevermind.”

Belle stood up and took Gold’s arm. “Come on Rumple,” she said, “let’s go see what they want.”

He sighed and let her lead him towards the front of the shop, but Emma stopped them.

“Wait, before you go in there, I want to tell you why we’re here. This morning I went out to patrol the woods and…I found Elsa.”

“What?” Gold whispered, incredulous.

“She’s here now,” Emma said, jabbing her thumb over her shoulder towards the front of the shop.

A flicker of what Emma thought might be terror flickered over Gold’s face, then he pulled away from Belle’s grip and pushed past Henry and Emma into the shop. The three of them followed. At the front of the shop stood Regina, Hook, and David, weapons at the ready. 

“Where is she?” Gold growled, advancing towards them.

Emma hurried forward and planted herself between Gold and the others. “Hey,” she said, “let’s just all calm down, and put our weapons away, yeah?”

Hook and Charming sheathed their swords, and Regina put her unclenched hands on her hips. Then Emma looked at Belle. Belle looked purposefully down at her knee-high winter boots, wiggled the right one slightly, then looked back at Emma. A sort of understanding passed between the two women, and Emma nodded.

“Where is Elsa?” Emma asked.

“Outside still. Mary-Margaret is with her,” David said, gesturing his head towards the door.

“Well bring them inside,” Emma said.

David nodded and stuck his head out of the door. “All right Mary-Margaret,” he said, “bring her in.”

Mary-Margaret stepped inside, looking worried. Behind her, Elsa entered with a gust of icy wind, and flurries flew in to swirl about the shop. When she saw Gold, Emma noticed a change come over her; while before she had glared angrily at the mention of Rumplestiltskin, now her anime eyes were wide with anxiety. Gold stared at her like she was a nightmare come to life, and out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw Belle bend down slightly.

“Rumplestiltskin,” Elsa said, her voice up an octave.

“Elsa,” Gold hissed back. 

Elsa raised her hands in what Emma thought was a defensive gesture, but Gold saw it as a threat and started towards her, conjuring handful of flames.

“Rumple, stop!” Belle commanded.

Gold lurched to a halt, the fireball fading. He turned, wide-eyed, to look over his shoulder. Belle was gripping the hilt of the dagger, which she had drawn from the inside of her right boot. Gold pointed an accusing finger at her.

“You promised you would never—”

“I don’t want you killing her!” Belle interrupted. Her face was stern, jaw set, but her eyes were wide and pleading.

Gold inhaled deeply, controlling his anger. “I wasn’t going…to kill her,” he said, turning back to face Elsa.

Her hands were still raised in front of her chest, but now it looked like a battle stance. Emma stepped forward, trying to diffuse the tension.

“Look, I know you’ve both had your differences, but Elsa, if you want his help you’re going to have to put them aside. And Gold, you were wrong. She’s not here for revenge.”

“Oh, I don’t know Emma,” Elsa said. “It’s awfully tempting.”

“You’re expecting me to help her?” Gold said, eyebrows raised.

“You owe me, Rumplestiltskin! You took my sister away!”

“I’m not the one who froze her heart!”

“But you still could have helped her! Instead you left her behind, and you gave Hans dark magic to protect her!”

“I made a deal, dearie, it’s what I do! He asked for immortality and I gave it to him and he paid the price. I never expected him to be able to use the magic!”

“And yet you never helped me fight him. You could have done that, you know! The both of us together would have been more than a match for him! But no, instead you fought /me,/ trapped me in an urn, and kept me prisoner for a hundred years! Why? I wasn’t after you, and I actually thought you—”

Elsa’s rage got the better of her and her words were interrupted by a sheet of ice exploding from her hand. The blast hit Gold in the right forearm, and he cried out in pain and clutched in his other hand. His skin was frosted over, and his veins stood out dark blue against his skin. Emma realized then that Gold had been sugar-coating the process for defrosting blood in his story, as it was actually quite gruesome to watch. The hand clutching his arm was consumed in fire, and burned into his flesh with a sinister sizzling. Parts of his sleeve erupted in flames as he (presumably) sent the fire down his arm, and Emma heard what she could only describe as blood boiling. She glanced over at Henry and was relieved to see that Regina had pulled him behind her and was holding flames of her own in her palm. Gold removed his shaking hand, and the skin beneath looked remarkably undamaged. Elsa looked confused.

“You gave her fire magic,” she said, pointing towards Emma, “and didn’t save any for yourself? Have foolish have you gotten in a hundred years?”

Amazingly, Gold hadn’t lifted a hand against her, to conjure flames or blast her backward. For a mad moment Emma thought he was trying to be the bigger person, but then she remembered Belle had the dagger.

“Well no matter,” Elsa continued, “makes things easier for me. Let this be my payback for how you took away my sister, imprisoned me, and burned me with Prometheus’ fire magic!” 

She raised her hands to strike again, but suddenly, to everyone’s intense surprise, Belle ran forward, shoved the dagger’s hilt into Gold’s hand, and stood in front of him. Gold stared uncomprehending at the twisted blade, as though trying to decide whether or not it was an illusion. Then he looked at Belle, who was standing protectively in front of him facing Elsa, her hands raised in front of her chest, palms outstretched.

“Don’t you dare touch him!” She shouted, eyes glistening with determination. As she spoke, her palms began to glow like the sun. She was /using/ the fire magic!

“Belle!” Gold choked out through his surprise, “How are you doing that?”

Belle smiled, and turned her head as much as she could while still keeping Elsa in sight. “You gave me more than everybody else, remember? You did have some left for yourself, but instead you gave it to me while I was asleep. I know because I woke up in the middle of the night feeling like someone had replaced my heart with the sun! I had to stand in an icy shower for an hour!”

“I’m sorry Belle!” Gold said, surprised. “I didn’t think it was that much!”

“Don’t worry Rumple,” she said. “Besides, who will protect you if I can’t?”

Gold gave a snort of laughter and awkwardly ran his fingers through her hair, seeming to forget that Elsa was even there for the moment.

“So this is your…wife?” Elsa asked.

Everyone turned to stare at her again. She had lowered her hands and was looking confused. Belle, deciding Elsa was no longer a threat (for the time being anyway), smiled and let her hands cool. 

“Yes,” Belle said, approaching Elsa and extending her hand, “I’m Belle. Nice to meet you.”

Elsa stared at Belle like she couldn’t quite believe her, then gave a small half smile and took her hand.

“Nice to meet you, too,” she said, shaking Belle’s hand.

As Emma watched the drama unfold, she was suddenly struck by how different Belle and even Elsa were from the other women whose lives had been touched by Rumplestiltskin: there was Cora, who had become a power-hungry sorceress and tried to kill them all; then there was Zelena, who had been consumed by envy and tried to turn back time and change the past in a way that would have eradicated most of them from reality; and then there was Regina, who was consumed by hatred and cursed an entire land for revenge, also trying to kill them all. But then there was Elsa, who had never wanted to hurt anybody, only save her sister; and Belle, who only wanted to save Rumplestiltskin. Seeing the two women smiling and clasping hands when moments before they had been poised for a fight stuck Emma. She already knew that Belle was pure of heart, but Elsa—who had a right to be angry, and yet was so easily distracted from revenge—what had kept her heart from going dark?

Gold was also staring at the two women, completely mystified. Hook, who surprisingly hadn’t spoken for a while remarked, “Blimey, I’ve never seen an atmosphere go from tense to bloodthirsty to civil so fast.”

This removed the remaining tension, and everybody let out a nervous giggle. Gold, who seemed to suddenly remember he was holding the dagger, stepped towards Belle.

“Belle,” he said, “why did you give me this?” 

His expression was measured. Emma knew, as would anybody else who knew Gold, that he was very happy to have his dagger back in his control. But she also knew there had been some sort of trouble around the possession of the dagger. He was (wisely, Emma thought) treading carefully.

“I thought you needed it,” she said simply. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll hold onto it again,” and she reached out her hand. 

A flicker of confusion passed over his face, and he slowly rested the blade in Belle’s hand. She slipped it carefully back into her boot.

“Now Elsa,” Belle said, “Emma mentioned you needed Rumple’s help?”

“Yes,” Elsa said, looking sharply at Gold. “I want to do what I was trying to do a hundred years ago; save my sister. I believe Rumplestiltskin told you all the story?”

Belle nodded. “He did.”

“Well, I don’t know what he made me look like, but that is all I wanted then, it’s all I want now. I don’t have any ‘big plan for revenge’ as you all seemed to think. But I do need help. For one thing, I don’t know how to get back to Arrendell. And for another, I don’t know how to fight Hans. That’s why I need you, Rumplestiltskin.”

Tension was seeping back into the room, as Elsa looked reluctantly at Gold, and Gold stared stonily back. After a moment Elsa rolled her eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry if I hurt you,” she said, “but it was nothing compared to your betrayal. You’re the reason my sister and I aren’t safe in our home…or were, a long time ago. The least you can do is help me. Don’t you owe me that?”

“Hans is not going to be easy to fight,” Gold said. “He’s had a hundred years to hone his skills.”

“And you’ve had three hundred,” Elsa retorted. “And I believe these two are also practiced in magic?” she gestured and Emma and Regina.

“I don’t even know if we can get back to Arrendell!” Gold said.

Emma and most everyone else looked at Regina. “Regina,” Emma said, “I know you said the walls between the worlds were closed, but…” she trailed off, not much hope.

“Couldn’t the second curse have opened them up again?” Mary-Margaret piped up.

“It’s possible,” Regina mused. “But even if it had, it would probably be dangerous to cross over. But we don’t even have a way to make a portal; no magic beans, no hatter’s hat, nothing.”

Emma thought hard, determined to help Elsa. Surely there had to be some way to cross over! Then suddenly she remembered a conversation she’d had with a strange woman in a boutique dressing room.

“I have an idea!” she said, smiling.


End file.
